THE  ENEMY 


UNiV.  OF  CALIF.  LIBRARY.  LOS  ANGELES 


By 

GEORGE   RANDOLPH   CHESTER 
&   LILLIAN   CHESTER 

Authors  of  "The  Ball  of  Fire,"  etc. 


Illustrated  by 

A.  B.  Wenzel 


NEW    YORK 

HEARST'S  INTERNATIONAL  LIBRARY  CO. 


Copyright,  1915,  by 
HEARST'S  INTERNATIONAL  LIBRARY  Co.,  INC. 


All    rightt    rtiervtj,    including    the    translation    into    foreign 
languagis,    including    tht    Scandinavian. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I  THE  STREET  OF  THE  DEAD  ....       i 

II    TOMMY  TINKLE 13 

III  "  IN  THE  SILENCE  OF  BLACK  NIGHT  "    .25 

IV  ON  THE  WAY 34 

V  THE  DISAPPEARANCE  OF  Bow-wow     .     46 

VI    A  FAMILY  AFFAIR 50 

VII  IT  Is  NOT  GOOD  TO  FORGET  ....     68 

VIII     BILLY  AND  THE  IMPS 77 

IX    CONSPIRACY .     .     88 

X    FACE  TO  FACE 97 

XI  WALKING  ABOUT  THE  SQUARE     .      .112 

XII  GERALDINE  MAKES  A  RUN  OF  EIGHT  125 

XIII  SPRING! 135 

XIV  THE  ENCHANTED  PARLOR  ....   152 
XV    A  FAMILY  Pow-wow 163 

XVI  A  LITTLE  GAIETY  FOR  TAVY  .      .      .173 

XVII     TAVY  Is  TO  BLAME 183 

XVIII  GERALDINE,  THE  COMFORTER   .     .      .193 

XIX  TAVY  TAKES  A  Music  LESSON    .     .  203 

XX    A  FRIENDLY  CALL 216 

XXI  TOMMY  TINKLE  GOES  A-PEDDLING   .  231 

XXII    THE  VISION 239 

XXIII  SIDE  BY  SIDE 247 

XXIV  WHEN  ONE  HAS  A  TAVY  .      .      .      .256 
XXV  THE  GAYEST  NIGHT  OF  TAVY'S  LIFE  .  266 


2128884 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXVI  GERALDINE  LISTENS 280 

XXVII  THE  DAWN  OF  A  NEW  DAY  .      .      .287 

XXVIII  HAPPINESS  Is  A  SELFISH  PLEASURE.   .  296 

XXIX  HAM  AND  EGGS  ! 306 

XXX  CALLERS  FOR  JOHN   DOE    .     .     .      .314 

XXXI  HONOR   UPON   HONOR 324 

XXXII  IN  THE  SILENCE  OF  BLACK  NIGHT   .  334 

XXXIII  HARRISON     STUART     CONQUERS     His 

ENEMY 342 

XXXIV  THE  ROYAL  PRINCESS  COMES  HOME  .   356 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

Billy  couldn't  keep  his  eyes  off  the  girl  at  the  win- 
dow:    John  Doe's  Tavy!      .      .      .       Frontispiece 


FACING 
PAGE 


"  Eleven-fifteen,   Billy,"   Geraldine  warned   him   as 

he  stepped  out  of  the  limousine 2 

Suddenly  John  Doe  stood  up.  "Billy!" — in  his 
voice  was  anguish. — "  My  wife !  My  little 
girl!  I  want  them" 72 

Geraldine  came  to  the  door  at  this  inopportune  mo- 
ment   H2 

The  careless  Tommy  Tinkle,  watching  Geraldine 
with  the  practised  eye  of  a  color  artist,  noted  a 
fleeting  change  in  her  tint 126 

"  No !  "     The  tense  strong  voice  is  that  of  John  Doe. 

"I  would  rather  see  her  dead!"     .      .      .      .150 

"  Guess  I'm  a  little  late,"  mumbles  Billy.  There  is 
a  moan  and  a  sob  from  Mrs.  Stuart  as  she  real- 
izes the  truth.  Billy  is  drunk! 182 

With   a   cry  of   rapture,   they   are   clasped    in   each 

other's  arms 214 


THE  ENEMY 


THE  ENEMY 

CHAPTER  I 

THE    STREET   OF   THE   DEAD 

UNCANNY  stillness;  a  long,  low,  dim 
tunnel,  uneasy  with  the  shuffling  specters 
of  the  voiceless  damned;  a  rush,  a  rum- 
ble, a  deafening  clatter,  a  rumble  and  a  dying 
rush;  uncanny  stillness  again;  the  Bowery! 
Black,  oily  mire  everywhere;  even  the  snow,  fine 
and  clean  and  white  as  it  sifts  through  the  gloomy 
canopy  of  the  elevated,  turns  to  slime  as  it  falls 
on  the  reeking  pavement.  Time  was  when  that 
historic  thoroughfare  had  pride  in  its  lusty  vice 
and  flaunted  a  sort  of  gaiety,  but  now,  as  it  lies 
gleaming  under  the  long,  confused  perspective  of 
iron  pillars,  its  viscid  tar-like  surface  reflecting 
the  lights  of  the  dingy  shops,  it  is  a  street  of  the 
living  dead;  and  in  all  its  shuffling  phantoms  — 
hunch-shouldered  figures  with  pocketed  hands  and 
glazed  eyes  and  misshapen  lips  —  there  is  none 


2  THE  ENEMY 

more  lost  to  life  than  the  man  who  stands  against 
a  board  fence,  peering  down  into  the  excavation 
for  the  Pannard  Building,  the  ruddy  glow  from 
that  inferno-like  pit  touching  with  a  fantastic 
mockery  of  healthful  color  the  waxen  hue  of  his 
face. 

He  is  of  no  age,  this  man,  and  of  no  race,  and 
of  no  station,  and  of  no  name.  His  beard,  which 
might  have  been  gray  with  washing,  has  been  al- 
lowed to  grow  as  it  would,  and  is  meshed  and 
matted;  his  eyes  are  bleared  and  puffed;  his  brow 
is  broad  and  high  and  full,  but  hidden  by  an  ab- 
surdly shapeless  hat,  and  the  snow,  melting  from 
its  crown,  has  run  down  in  muddy  rivulets  across 
his  face  and  into  his  beard,  veining  his  sodden 
countenance  with  angling  streaks  of  brown.  He 
seems  numbly  fascinated,  without  apparently 
knowing  why,  in  the  weird  scene  which  spreads 
below  him. 

The  pit  is  huge  and  deep,  its  dimness  shot  by 
clustered  lights,  amidst  which  dark  figures  toil  like 
imps  in  a  far-off  hell.  There  are  voices  from 
below  there,  hollow  voices  but  vibrant  with  life, 
hoarse,  sharp  voices  of  command;  and  monster 
derricks,  like  giants  enslaved,  in  obedience  to  the 
voices  sweep  their  great  arms  from  horizon  to 
horizon,  picking  up  and  setting  down  with  a  pre- 


THE  ENEMY  3 

cision  so  marvelously  human  that  understanding 
must  be  in  their  sinews;  and  as  they  lift  and  drop 
their  tons,  they  groan! 

Day  after  day,  and  night  after  night,  the  waxen 
face  has,  at  intervals,  peered  numbly  over  that 
spot  in  the  fence,  for  hours  at  a  time,  and  there 
have  been  occasions  when  the  brow  has  knotted,  as 
if  in  an  effort  of  concentration;  but,  for  the  most 
part,  the  man  has  gazed  in  the  stupor  of  drink. 

Radiant  life  came  into  the  street  of  the  dead. 
A  big  limousine,  its  great  yellow  eyes  gliding  for- 
ward as  a  symbol  of  its  right  and  its  might  and 
its  imperial  will,  stopped  at  the  curb  just  opposite 
the  waxen-faced  watcher.  The  dome  light  flashed 
up  within,  revealing,  amid  the  exquisitely  grained 
woodwork  and  the  luxurious  corded  gray  uphol- 
stering, a  jolly  looking  elderly  man,  a  placid  look- 
ing elderly  lady,  a  tall,  pleasant  looking  young 
man  in  a  beaver  hat,  and  a  young  lady,  bewilder- 
ingly  swathed  in  soft  white  furs,  her  richly  tinted 
smiling  face  framed  in  a  wealth  of  rippling  light 
brown  hair  tinged  with  gold.  Her  brown  eyes 
sparkled  for  a  moment  as  she  turned  them  on  the 
tall  young  man. 

"  Eleven-fifteen,  Billy,"  she  warned  him,  as  he 
stepped  out  of  the  limousine.  "  Not  a  minute 
later." 


4  THE  ENEMY 

"  I'll  be  there  right  after  the  cocktails,"  laughed 
Billy,  hat  in  hand. 

"  How  frank."  The  smiling  retort  seemed  to 
please  her  father  very  much,  and  he  chuckled. 

"  If  you  want  Billy  to  be  late,  Geraldine,  just 
keep  on  holding  his  hand."  Three-B  Benning  was 
even  more  pleased  with  his  own  humor,  for,  as 
his  shoulders  shook,  his  face  reddened  and  his 
puffy  mustache  rounded. 

"Father!"  protested  Mrs.  Benning  in  a  tone 
so  placid  that  it  held  no  possibility  of  emotion  of 
any  sort. 

Geraldine  only  laughed,  though  her  face  flushed 
slightly,  as  Billy  hastily  released  her  hand. 

"  I'll  have  to  do  some  fiddling  before  I  can 
dance,"  and  the  young  man  cast  a  quick  glance 
toward  the  groaning  giants  of  the  pit.  "  Eleven- 
fifteen."  He  closed  the  door  of  the  limousine, 
he  gave  each  of  the  occupants  a  separate  bow  and 
a  cheerful  grin. 

The  dome  light  was  extinguished,  the  limou- 
sine rolled  away,  and  with  its  going  all  the  light 
and  life  and  warmth  seemed  to  have  disappeared 
from  the  world!  The  waxen-faced  onlooker  shiv- 
ered. 

A  stockily  built  man  came  up  out  of  Hades, 
by  means  of  staged  ladders,  and  appeared  over 


THE  ENEMY  5 

the  top  of  the  fence.  He  wore  a  heavy  cap  pulled 
down  over  his  ears,  and  his  mustache  was  drip- 
ping. 

"Still  sliding,  Joe?"  anxiously  inquired  Billy 
Lane. 

"Nearly  a  quarter  of  an  inch!"  gravely  re- 
ported the  man  from  the  pit. 

The  waxen-faced  one  did  not  hear.  He  was 
shivering  so  that  his  shoulders  drew  together  and 
his  teeth  chattered,  and  a  tremor  seemed  to  run 
down  his  whole  bowed  body  to  his  gaping  shoes. 
Intelligence  followed  that  awakening  of  his  senses. 
The  man  knew  exactly  what  to  do.  He  turned 
and  shuffled,  trembling,  down  the  street  toward 
the  Chicago  Buffet,  more  popularly  known  as 
Mike  Dowd's  Sink.  He  walked  with  his  head 
bent  and  his  eyes  to  the  ground.  Once  he  stooped 
and  picked  up  a  water-soaked  cigar  butt,  which 
he  slipped  in  his  bulging  right-hand  pocket,  and 
a  little  farther  on  he  found  an  iron  nut.  Left- 
hand  pocket.  These  things,  and  bones  and  rags 
and  empty  bottles  and  the  like,  could  be  sold  when 
there  were  enough  of  them. 

The  dingy  Sink,  with  its  frowsy  habitues,  was 
like  a  scene  from  Dante;  but  Mike  Dowd  was 
strictly  material.  He  was  a  big,  large-necked 
man,  with  a  yellow  mustache  and  a  face  as  expres- 


6  THE  ENEMY 

sionless  as  a  stone  post.  He  nodded  gruffly  as 
"  the  regular  "  drew  up  to  the  bar,  but  he  made 
no  other  movement  until  a  nickel  was  laid  down 
with  a  quivering  hand;  then  he  deftly  filled  a 
small  glass,  brimful,  from  a  worn  looking  bottle. 
The  man  drew  a  deep  breath  and  reached  for  the 
drink,  but  time  after  time  he  withdrew  his  shaking 
hand,  lest  he  should  spill  one  drop  of  that  life- 
giving  liquid! 

The  well-dressed  young  man  in  the  beaver  hat, 
and  the  stocky  man  from  the  pit,  with  the  heavy 
cap  still  pulled  down  over  his  ears,  came  briskly 
in,  so  intent  that  they  scarcely  noticed  the  total 
depravity  of  Mike  Dowd's  Sink,  low  and  ill- 
smelling,  and  peopled  with  living  carrion. 

"Have  you  any  good  whisky?"  dubiously 
asked  the  younger  man,  as  he  inspected  the  rick- 
ety back-bar,  with  its  narrow  cracked  mirror  and 
its  scant  assortment  of  bottles. 

"  Leave  it  to  you,"  rumbled  Mike  Dowd,  reach- 
ing under  the  stickily  painted  counter  for  a  copper 
measure.  "  I  got  some  at  two  bits  a  throw." 

"  Shoot  it,"  accepted  the  young  man  in  Mike's 
language,  and  with  a  smile  which  disclosed  a  set 
of  even  white  teeth.  He  radiated  so  much  good- 
fellowship  that  even  the  stone  post  gave  him  a 
half  glance  of  approval,  as  he  strode  heavily  to 


THE  ENEMY  7 

the  row  of  black  barrels  across  the  rear  end  of 
the  room. 

"  We're  up  against  it,  Billy,"  said  the  stockily 
built  man,  wiping  his  dripping  mustache,  and  there 
was  a  look  of  deep  concern  on  his  face.  '  That 
foundation  is  solid  rock.  It  can't  slide,  and  yet 
it  does." 

Billy  Lane  unconsciously  studied  the  geometri- 
cal relation  of  four  dents  in  the  bar.  He  was 
troubled. 

"  I  might  as  well  go  out  of  business  if  the  big 
Pannard  Building  should  loaf  down  toward  the 
river  one  night."  He  moved  forward  as  he  felt 
an  elbow  touch  his  from  behind.  "  Better  stop 
the  work  until  I  investigate,  Joe." 

"  Nothing  else  to  do,"  worried  the  superin- 
tendent. "  I  wish  Harrison  Stuart  were  alive. 
He  knew  the  geological  formation  underlying  New 
York  as  if  he  had  made  it." 

"If  Harrison  Stuart  could  stop  that  sliding,  I 
can,"  declared  Lane,  laying  a  good  fist  on  the  edge 
of  the  bar.  "  First  of  all,  however,"  and  a  laugh 
betrayed  his  perplexity,  "  I  have  to  find  out  what 
causes  it.  The  surveys  show  that  site  to  be  as 
solid  as  the  universe  itself." 

"  Survey's  wrong!  "  husked  a  voice. 

Startled,  both  men  turned  to  find  the  waxen- 


8  THE  ENEMY 

faced  refuse  peering  up  at  them  with  strained 
brows.  The  man  was  soddenly  drunk,  but  he  was 
fairly  trembling  with  his  effort  at  concentration, 
and  his  bleared  eyes  were  steady  for  the  first  time 
in  weeks.  He  had  drunk  his  whisky,  and  was 
holding  the  glass  with  a  grip  which  would  have 
crushed  it  had  he  been  stronger. 

"  Beg  pardon?  "  said  Billy,  in  surprise. 

"  Shale  up-cropping,"  went  on  the  man,  holding 
tightly  to  thought  by  his  grip  on  the  edge  of  the 
bar,  and  sliding  slowly  towards  the  young  man 
in  his  earnestness.  "  Substratum  —  runs  down 
there  —  like  a  trough.  You're  on  the  point." 
His  brows  began  to  relax,  his  eyes  to  dull,  his  voice 
to  weaken.  "  Cut  it  off."  His  voice  died  away 
in  a  mumbling  whisper.  He  leaned  heavily 
against  the  bar.  His  head  drooped. 

If  a  genie  had  popped  out  of  a  bottle  to  solve 
their  dilemma,  they  could  have  been  no  more 
amazed!  That  this  distorted  shell  contained 
fragments  of  a  cultivated  intelligence  was  beyond 
comprehension!  Looking  at  him,  as  he  stood 
there  relapsed  into  dullness,  with  his  grimy  hands 
and  his  matted  beard  and  his  dirt-streaked  face, 
they  could  scarcely  believe  that  it  was  he  who  had 
spoken ! 


THE  ENEMY  9 

"  Well,  what  do  you  think  of  that !  "  gasped 
the  superintendent. 

"  It's  probably  the  answer,"  decided  Billy,  his 
mind  delving  below  the  Pannard  excavation,  and 
constructing  a  diagram  of  the  tilted  substratum. 
He  bent  eagerly  over  the  bleared  stranger.  "  Do 
you  know  the  extent  of  this  shale  up-cropping?  " 
he  asked. 

The  frowsy  one  lifted  his  head,  but  the  gleam 
of  intelligence  had  gone  from  his  eye. 

"  A  little  whisky,"  he  mumbled,  with  a  form- 
less smile. 

Mike  Dowd  had  returned  with  the  copper  meas- 
ure, and  with  great  vigor  was  washing  and  bur- 
nishing two  glasses. 

"  Give  him  a  drink,"  suggested  the  superin- 
tendent. 

"  This  good  whisky'll  kill  him,"  grinned  Mike, 
his  yellow  mustache  lifting.  "  Hey,  Bow-Wow ! 
Have  a  drink?  Of  course  you  will!"  and  he 
poured  it  out  and  set  it  in  Bow-Wow's  hand. 

The  bent  head  raised  quickly  and  the  drooped 
shoulders  straightened  a  trifle. 

'  Thank  —  you,"  and,  in  a  trembling  hand, 
the  glass  was  held  up  and  out,  with  an  absurd  at- 
tempt at  formality.  Mike  laughed,  but  Billy 


io  THE  ENEMY 

Lane  turned  on  Bow-Wow  that  warm  smile  which 
had  lined  his  path  through  life  with  friends. 

"  The  same  to  you,  sir,"  he  replied  with  grave 
courtesy,  and  drank  with  the  man.  A  look  of 
gratification  brightened  the  young  architect's  face 
as  he  tasted  the  liquor.  "  That's  great  stuff,"  he 
complimented  Mike  Dowd.  "  Can  you  stand  an- 
other one,  Joe?  " 

"  One  at  a  time  for  me,"  refused  the  super- 
intendent, with  a  speculative,  sidelong  glance  at 
his  companion. 

"  I'm  not  too  proud  to  drink  by  myself," 
laughed  that  young  man  gaily,  and  poured  his 
diminutive  glass  two-thirds  full.  "  It's  a  shame 
to  let  a  good  drink  of  whisky  be  lonesome." 

"  Whisky!  "  suddenly  shouted  Bow-Wow,  with 
a  sharp  intake  of  his  breath. 

Billy  Lane  and  his  superintendent  turned  at 
the  vehemence  of  the  tone.  The  man's  fists  were 
clenched  and  his  eyes  were  glistening.  The  hu- 
man carrion  on  the  benches  grinned  stupidly. 

"  It's  the  curse  of  the  world !  "  went  on  the  dere- 
lict, his  voice  rising  shrilly.  "  There  is  no  hell 
but  whisky !  Drink !  It's  the  enemy  of  man  and 
God!  It  burns  the  body  and  it  sears  the  brain! 
It—" 

"  Can  that !  "  interrupted  big  Mike,  and  reach- 


THE  ENEMY  n 

ing  across  he  gave  a  sharp  jerk  at  the  man's  beard, 
by  way  of  emphasis. 

The  orator  instantly  subsided.  He  set  down 
his  empty  glass  and  shuffled  across  to  a  bench, 
where  he  huddled,  mumbling  unintelligibly  and 
plucking  nervously  at  his  beard. 

"  I  told  you  that  two-bit  whisky'd  kill  him," 
grinned  big  Mike. 

"Who  is  he?"  asked  Billy. 

"  A  bum,"  and  the  blond  mustache  came  up. 
"  He  hands  us  that  spiel  every  time  he  gets  one 
drink  past  the  corner." 

"Where  does  he  live?" 

"  Here." 

Billy  inspected  Mike  Dowd's  Sink  with  a  shud- 
der. It  was  a  narrow  room,  its  rough  board  walls 
and  ceiling  painted  a  ghastly  blue.  It  was  lighted 
with  small  yellow  bulbs,  half  obscured  by  clouds 
of  stinking  smoke.  Along  each  wall  were  decrepit 
benches,  and  on  these  sat,  puffing  at  their  pipes, 
soiled  and  rumpled  creatures,  who,  after  an  apa- 
thetic glance  at  the  newcomers,  had  descended 
again  into  motionless,  hopeless,  lifeless  silence. 
There  was  sawdust  on  the  floor,  which,  by  the 
tracking  in  of  the  slush,  had  been  mixed  into  a 
mottled  pasty  mire. 

"Where  does  he  sleep?" 


12  THE  ENEMY 

"  In  the  alley.  He  crawls  into  an  old  coal  box 
out  there  that's  shaped  like  a  kennel.  That's  why 
we  call  him  Bow-Wow.  He  sweeps  out  in  the 
morning,  for  a  drink,  and  he's  the  only  bum  I 
ever  had  that  don't  steal." 

The  young  man  paid  for  his  drinks,  and  but- 
toned his  coat. 

"  I'm  going  to  take  him  home  and  sober  him 
up,"  he  announced  to  the  superintendent.  "  He 
knows  all  about  the  rock  under  the  Pannard  Build- 
ing," and  Billy  walked  across  to  Bow-Wow. 
Lord,  what  a  debasing  name !  "  Come  on,"  and 
he  touched  the  fellow  on  the  shoulder. 

"  Eh?  "     The  nodding  head  raised  slowly. 

"Come  on!" 

Bow-Wow  half  rose. 

"Where?" 

"Home!" 

There  was  a  rumble  in  Bow-Wow's  throat,  a 
rumble  which  began  in  a  laugh  and  ended  in  a 
cough. 

"  A  little  whisky,"  he  said. 


CHAPTER  II 

TOMMY   TINKLE 

A  BIG  lounging-room,   with  rich  hangings 
and  soft  leather  chairs  and  couches;  a 
huge  log  blazing  in  the  fireplace,   and 
casting  its  ruddy  glow  in  fitful  flares  upon  the  well 
chosen  pictures,  upon  the  odds  and  ends  of  art 
from  every  quarter  of  the  globe,  and  upon  the 
glistening  evening  attire  of  Tommy  Tinkle,  who, 
with  a  highball  at  his  elbow  and  a  cigarette  be- 
tween his  fingers,  is  sitting  contentedly  by  Billy 
Lane's  fireplace,  in  Billy  Lane's  favorite  chair. 

The  lock  clicked,  the  door  opened,  and  Tommy 
turned  lazily  to  greet  his  friend,  but,  instead  of 
Billy  Lane,  there  shuffled  into  this  harmony,  Bow- 
Wow!  He  stood  blinking  stupidly  at  the  fire. 

Billy  followed  briskly  a  second  later.  He 
closed  the  door,  and  leaned  the  swaying  Bow- 
Wow  against  it;  then  he  peeled  off  his  gloves, 
threw  them  into  a  waste  basket,  and  drew  a  long, 
deep  breath. 

'  You're   quite   a   collector,"   Tommy   grinned 
13 


i4  THE  ENEMY 

with  appreciation.  "  Where  did  you  get  it,  and 
what  corner's  it  for?  " 

"  Haven't  decided,"  speculated  the  connoisseur, 
studying  his  prize  with  considerable  wonder  at 
himself.  "Where's  Burke?" 

"  Chipping  highball  ice,"  and  long-legged 
Tommy  obligingly  rang. 

For  a  moment  there  was  silence,  broken  only 
by  the  stupor-like  breathing  of  Bow-Wow,  while 
the  two  young  men  studied  the  new  guest  with 
awe. 

"Genuine  antique  or  imitation?"  finally  in- 
quired Tommy,  but  the  laziness  in  his  tone  was 
now  only  superficial,  for  the  fingers  with  which  he 
clutched  pencil  and  paper  from  the  table  were  both 
agile  and  deft. 

He  was  sketching  Bow-Wow  with  great  enjoy- 
ment when  Burke  came  in,  a  pleasant-faced  Irish- 
man with  three  scars:  one  from  the  Boer  War, 
one  from  a  fight  in  China  and  one  a  memento  of 
his  sole  attempt  at  domestication. 

"  A  guest  of  mine,  Burke,"  explained  Billy,  with 
solemn  gravity;  "  Mr.  John  Doe." 

"  Yes,  sir."  Burke  was  equally  grave,  but 
there  was  a  twinkle  at  the  corners  of  his  Killarney 
eyes  as  he  surveyed  John  Doe.  "  The  blue  room, 
sir?  " 


THE  ENEMY  15 

Tommy  Tinkle's  ever-ready  grin  widened,  as 
he  observed  the  perplexity  which  this  counter 
thrust  cast  upon  Burke's  master.  What  was  to  be 
done  with  the  fellow,  after  all ! 

"  The  fire  escape,  I  think,"  the  host  suggested 
in  desperation.  "  However,  Burke,  he's  up  to 
you,"  and  it  was  Billy's  turn  to  grin,  as  he  saw  gen- 
uine worry  flash  into  Burke's  brow.  "  You  will 
scrub  my  guest,  feed  him,  and  hold  him  here  until 
my  return." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  assented  the  Irishman  gloomily. 
"  I  suppose  you  prefer  him  sober." 

Bow-Wow,  having  lurched  dangerously  along 
the  door,  once  or  twice,  now  aroused  sufficiently 
to  take  part  in  the  conversation. 

"  A  little  whisky !  "  he  husked,  and  lurched 
again. 

Burke  gave  an  entirely  perfunctory  glance 
around  the  room.  There  was  no  place  here  to 
seat  Mr.  John  Doe;  no  place  in  the  kitchen;  no 
place  in  any  room. 

"  Excuse  me,  please."  He  hurried  out,  and 
came  back  wearing  a  pair  of  gloves.  He  took 
Billy's  new  guest  by  the  arm  and  led  him  into  the 
servants'  bathroom,  in  which  he  had  placed  a  coal 
pail. 

"  A  little  whisky !  "  husked  Bow-Wow. 


1 6  THE  ENEMY 

"  Take  off  your  clothes  and  throw  them  in 
this  pail,  shoes  and  all;  then  climb  into  the  tub, 
and  you'll  get  your  whisky,"  directed  Burke,  and 
turned  on  the  water.  Billy  was  in  his  dressing- 
room,  throwing  things,  when  Burke  returned. 

Half  an  hour  later,  Billy  and  Tommy  Tinkle 
were  in  the  gaudiest  of  the  private  dining-rooms 
in  one  of  New  York's  most  superb  up-town  pal- 
aces of  food;  and  they  had  minutes  to  spare. 

"  You  need  a  drink,  my  boy,"  advised  Tommy, 
as,  properly  slim  in  their  swallow-tails,  they  en- 
tered the  door  and  found  themselves  in  company 
with  no  one  but  waiters,  whom  it  was  a  distress  to 
see  idle.  "  Bow- Wow  has  had  an  entirely  too 
sobering  influence  on  you.  Are  you  in  any  condi- 
tion to  join  a  gay  and  festive  supper  dance?  No ! 
Then,  get  pickled,  Billy;  get  pickled !  "  and  he  mo- 
tioned the  solemn  headwaiter  to  him. 

"  I  don't  have  to  be  gay  until  the  fun  comes," 
retorted  Billy,  attempting  to  reach  Tommy's 
height  of  glorious  flippancy;  but  his  somberness 
would  not  shake  off.  He  was  studying  the  fa- 
miliar ornateness  of  the  big  empty  room,  as  if, 
all  at  once,  its  luxury  were  strange  to  him,  and  his 
gaze  strayed  from  the  big  chandelier,  with  its 
thousand  iridescences,  to  the  elaborately  paneled 


THE  ENEMY  17 

Louis  Quinze  walls.  "  Tremendous  contrast  be- 
tween this  and  the  Bowery." 

"  Wow !  "  said  Tommy.  "  It's  a  lucky  thing 
for  you  that  I  have  ten  minutes  before  the  mob 
arrives."  He  turned  to  the  headwaiter.  "  Six 
cocktails,"  he  ordered.  He  turned  briskly  back  to 
his  friend.  "  You  will  get  one  drink  every  three 
and  a  third  minutes,"  he  explained,  watch  in  hand. 

"  Sensible  idea,"  laughed  Billy,  and  they  fol- 
lowed the  headwaiter  to  the  sideboard. 

Young  Lane,  both  his  engineering  and  his  psy- 
chological problems  forgotten,  was  light  of  mood 
and  sparkling  of  eye  when  the  Benning  party  came 
chattering  into  the  room. 

There  were  twenty  of  them,  mostly  youthful 
and  fresh-cheeked  and  care  free;  and  the  spirit 
of  frivolity  took  possession  of  the  place.  It  was 
as  if  a  cyclone  of  merriment  had  suddenly  burst 
into  the  prim  stiffness  of  that  gold  and  rose  hall. 
There  were  laughing  voices,  flashing  eyes,  the 
gleam  of  pearly  teeth,  the  curving  of  bewitching 
lips,  the  glitter  of  jewels,  the  rustle  of  filmy  gowns, 
and  all  the  gay  bustle  and  confusion  of  such  parties 
as  jolly  old  B.  B.  Benning  loved  to  give. 

An  orchestra,  half  screened  by  palms,  struck 
into  a  lively  march,  and  Billy  found  the  tall  and 


1 8  THE  ENEMY 

graceful  Miriam  Hasselton  beside  him  as  the 
throng  made  its  way  to  the  table.  Clever  girl, 
Miriam,  full  of  general  appeal,  and  serenely  con- 
scious of  it.  A  little  light  repartee  between  them, 
vague  half-meanings  which  might  or  might  not 
be  turned  into  a  laugh  or  a  flirtation,  but  light  as 
froth  in  its  analysis. 

Geraldine  Benning  slipped  between  pompous 
Joseph  Gandish  and  Jack  Greeves,  to  get  at  Billy. 
Miriam  Hasselton  was  considered  to  be  an  ac- 
quired taste,  like  olives;  but  some  people  became 
very  fond  of  olives.  Tommy  arrived  at  Miriam's 
side  just  as  Geraldine  reached  them;  so  Geraldine 
swept  both  the  boys  away.  They,  at  least,  should 
not  be  Miriamized !  She  turned  Tommy  over  to 
the  dimpled  little  Parsons  girl.  Dolly  Parsons 
could  be  trusted. 

Geraldine  snuggled  her  hand  in  Billy's  arm. 
She  was  unusually  pretty  to-night,  in  her  shimmer- 
ing gown  of  silver  tissue  touched  with  green,  and 
with  her  new  tiara  of  diamonds  and  emeralds  in 
her  golden  brown  hair.  As  young  Lane  drew  her 
hand  in  place,  he  patted  it.  She  turned  swiftly 
up  to  him,  and  her  eyes  were  glowing.  He  drew 
her  arm  closer  within  his  own.  They  were  very 
fond  of  each  other,  these  two;  they  had  always 


THE  ENEMY  19 

been.  He  bent  down  and  whispered  something 
to  her,  and  a  little  ripple  of  laughter  followed, 
then  Geraldine  flushed  prettily. 

"  Here  are  our  places !  "  she  exclaimed,  examin- 
ing the  cards  on  the  table.  "  Here's  mine,  and 
there's  yours,  and  next  to  you  is  pretty  Leila 
Langster.  You're  in  luck!  " 

"  Indeed  I  am,"  and  he  helped  her  into  her 
chair  with  exaggerated  gallantry. 

"  Why,  there's  Billy  Lane !  "  suddenly  called 
Tommy  Tinkle,  taking  his  seat  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  table,  between  the  dimpled  Parsons 
girl  and  the  vivacious  Mrs.  Greeves.  "  Ladies 
and  gentlemen,  Billy  has  a  Bow-Wow !  " 

"  Billy's  always  doing  something  interesting," 
drawled  Miriam  Hasselton,  bending  past  her  thick 
partner  to  look  at  the  young  man,  who  was  quite 
pink  and  jovial  this  evening.  "  What  kind  of  a 
bow-wow  has  Billy?  " 

"A  booze  Bow- Wow!"  returned  Tommy 
solemnly.  "  Here's  to  him,  old  friend." 

"  You  didn't  tell  me  you  had  a  new  dog,"  pro- 
tested Geraldine. 

'  Tommy  Tinkle  has  given  way  to  an  over- 
strained sense  of  humor,"  explained  Billy,  with  a 
cheerful  grin  at  the  young  man  in  question,  who 


20  THE  ENEMY 

was  making  a  rapid  sketch  on  his  napkin.  "  I 
happened  to  find  a  poor  devil  down  in  the  Bowery 
whose  only  name  in  Mike  Dowd's  Sink,  beg  every- 
body's pardon,  is  Bow-Wow."  His  eyes,  which 
had  been  shining,  began  to  grow  thoughtful. 

"  Feed  him  his  cocktail  quick,  Geraldine !  " 
called  Tommy  as  one  in  a  panic.  "  He's  growing 
morbid  again.  Friends  and  fellow  citizens,  be- 
hold Bow-Wow !  "  and  he  displayed  his  napkin, 
on  which  he  had  sketched  a  caricature  of  John 
Doe. 

Everybody  laughed,  with  the  exception  of 
sharp-featured  Mrs.  Gandish,  who  objected  on 
general  principles  to  the  introduction  of  such  a 
thought  into  so  select  a  company.  Mrs.  Gandish 
herself  had  not  been  long  in  this  company. 

"  Begins  to  sound  like  a  story,"  suggested  Host 
Benning,  beaming  across  with  great  satisfaction, 
and  lifting  his  glass. 

"  Not  much  of  a  one.  The  foundation  for  the 
Pannard  Building  is  rather  unstable,  and  this  fel- 
low seemed  to  have  some  information  about  the 
substrata  there;  so  I'm  trying  to  sober  him  up 
to  see  if  he  knows  anything.  That's  all." 

"  It  isn't  half !  "  denied  Tommy  Tinkle.  "  We 
have  among  us  a  simon-pure,  dyed-in-the-wool 
philanthropist!  Where  do  you  suppose  Bow- 


THE  ENEMY  21 

Wow  is  being  sobered.  In  William  Lane's  apart- 
ments! " 

There  was  a  general  flutter  of  consternation  at 
this,  and  Geraldine  turned  with  concern. 

"  But,  Billy!  "  she  protested.  "  He  might  do 
something  desperate ;  kill  you  in  the  night  or  some- 
thing! " 

"  Not  with  Burke  there,"  he  reassured  her. 
"  Besides,"  and  now  he  spoke  generally,  since 
they  all  seemed  interested,  "  I  rather  trust  the  fel- 
low. I  think  that,  at  one  time,  he  may  have  been 
an  engineer  of  some  standing." 

"  Nonsense  I  "  It  was  the  pompous  Joseph 
Gandish  who  spoke.  He  was  a  big  man,  whose 
chest  traveled  far  ahead  of  him  and  whose  habitual 
expression  of  eye  was  one  of  ferocity.  "  A  man 
who  is  worth  his  salt  never  sinks  that  low!  " 

"  Yes  he  does,"  corrected  B.  B.  Benning,  whose 
acquaintance  had  been  wide  and  varied.  "  Hard 
liquor  has  sent  many  a  man  that  low;  and  he  never 
comes  back!  " 

There  was  a  quiet  moment  after  that,  for  Ben- 
ning had  spoken  with  unwonted  seriousness  for 
him.  The  awkward  little  pause  was  broken  by 
Tommy  Tinkle,  who  loathed  awkward  little 
pauses. 

"  Billy,  let  this  be  a  solemn  warning  to  you!  " 


22  THE  ENEMY 

he  declared  with  mock  gravity.  "  You  like  hard 
liquor.  Beware!  Billy,  we  behold  you  now  in 
the  flush  of  your  young  manhood,  your  constitu- 
tion as  yet  unimpaired  by  hard  liquor.  There 
passes  but  a  few  years,  and  it  is  thus  that  we  shall 
behold  you !  "  He  had  taken  the  fresh  napkin 
which  a  waiter  had  laid  before  him,  and  now,  with 
a  few  deft  strokes,  he  started  to  draw  a  carica- 
ture of  Billy  Lane,  as  that  eminent  young  engineer- 
ing architect  would  look  when  he  became  Old  Bill. 

"Tommy!"  cried  Geraldine,  and  there  was 
such  distress  in  her  voice  that  even  the  irrepres- 
sible Tommy  stopped  and  read  the  dawning  hor- 
ror in  every  face.  He  grinned  to  Geraldine,  and, 
before  the  dimpled  Parsons  girl  could  snatch  the 
napkin  from  under  his  hand,  he  had  finished  the 
sketch ;  but  lo,  it  portrayed  Old  Bill  as  a  splendidly 
preserved  gentleman,  with  a  rakish  air,  a  wink  in 
his  jovial  eye,  and  a  cocktail  in  his  hand! 

"  The  peace  of  the  evening  having  thus  been 
restored  by  sacred  truth,  I  move  that  we  be 
merry,"  suggested  Tommy.  "  This  is  no  place 
for  engineering,  or  philanthropy,  or,"  and  here  he 
winked  prodigiously  at  Three-B  Benning,  "  or 
temperance." 

That  broke  the  only  touch  of  seriousness  which 
the  jolly  Benning  party  endured  that  evening;  and 


THE  ENEMY  23 

the  host  was  happy  in  consequence,  for  he  loved 
laughter  better  than  wine.  This  was  saying  a 
great  deal,  for  Benning  was  a  connoisseur  in  wines, 
and  there  was  plenty  of  it  at  his  supper. 

Billy  was  fond  of  wine,  too.  He  was  fond  of 
almost  anything  to  drink,  and  he  imbibed  quite 
freely,  especially  during  the  exhilaration  of  the 
dancing  which  followed  the  supper.  The  wine 
seemed  to  agree  with  him.  It  made  him  more 
animated.  Handsome  fellow,  Billy,  with  his 
broad  shoulders  and  his  well  poised  head,  his  good 
nose  and  chin  and  jaw.  It  became  him  to  cast  off 
his  business  cares,  and  indulge  in  a  little  hilarity. 
It  was  Tommy  Tinkle's  turn,  however,  to  drive 
home  with  the  Bennings. 

Tommy  kept  them  laughing  all  the  way.  Great 
chap,  Tommy!  Natural  comedian.  Three-B 
Benning,  who  had  gained  the  soubriquet  from 
his  signature,  laughed  less  than  the  others,  for  he 
was  always  respectful  of  Tommy's  wit.  There 
was  an  underlying  keenness  in  it,  which  gave  Ben- 
ning a  higher  degree  of  enjoyment  than  laughter 
could  express. 

Tommy  remained  in  the  vestibule  with  Gerald- 
ine,  and  chattered  for  a  few  moments  after  her 
placid  mother  and  her  jovial  father  had  gone  in. 
She  was  wonderfully  pretty,  with  the  soft  light 


24  THE  ENEMY 

of  the  quaint  old  lamp  shining  down  on  her. 
They  remained  an  unusually  long  time,  and 
when  Geraldine  bade  him  good  night,  she  smiled 
on  him  with  extra  sweetness.  His  familiar  grin 
was  the  last  thing  she  saw,  as  she  closed  the 
door;  but,  as  the  latch  clicked,  a  little  spasm  of 
pain  twitched  Tommy's  humorous  face.  It  was 
the  first  time  he  had  ever  proposed. 


CHAPTER  III 

IN  THE   SILENCE   OF   BLACK   NIGHT  " 

iHAT  numb  carcass  which  was  Bow-Wow 
stirred  uneasily.  Something  was  wrong. 
A  mattress;  clean  linen;  silken  pajamas; 
a  bath.  The  body  of  Bow-Wow  resented  these 
things  long  before  his  soddened  mind  could  com- 
prehend them.  His  body  missed  the  knotted  rags 
upon  which  it  had  lain  each  night;  it  missed  the 
cramping  touch  of  the  kennel,  head,  foot  and 
shoulder;  it  missed  the  gusts  of  wind,  cold  and 
wet  or  hot  and  stifling,  which  had  swept  upon  him 
through  the  cracks  of  the  box  in  the  alley;  so  the 
body  rebelled.  It  rolled,  it  twisted,  it  straight- 
ened and  bent,  until  it  became  aware  of  a  new 
uneasiness;  and  this  was  the  heavy  dose  of  "  fixer  " 
which  Burke  had  inserted  into  Bow-Wow  as  a  sub- 
stitute for  whisky. 

There  is  no  resisting  the  ultimate  command 
of  the  body.  When  it  is  born,  a  mind  and  a  soul 
spring  into  existence.  When  it  has  reached  its 

25 


26  THE  ENEMY 

time  to  die,  the  mind  and  the  soul  have  no  say  in 
the  matter;  so,  in  this  life,  the  body  is  always 
supreme.  It  demands  to  be  fed,  to  have  its  thirst 
quenched,  to  lie  in  slothful  slumber;  and,  if  it  be 
refused  these  things,  it  ousts  mind  and  soul. 

The  body  of  Bow-Wow  commanded  his  mind 
to  awaken;  and  it  did;  awakened  to  its  full 
strength,  to  its  full  intellectual  capacity,  to  the 
full  measure  of  its  understanding;  and  all  those 
mental  powers  were  comprised  in  one  muttered 
word,  which  broke  huskily  upon  the  silence  of  the 
black  night : 

"Whisky!" 

Bow-Wow  opened  his  eyes.  Darkness,  shot 
with  glimmering  light.  He  reached  out  his  arms. 
Space !  Groaning  he  sat  up  painfully,  and  en- 
deavored to  locate  himself.  Through  a  small 
window  there  came  the  faint  illumination  of  the 
street,  and  the  moist  air  of  the  snow.  A  door 
stood  ajar,  letting  through  a  slit  of  dim  radiance 
from  the  room  beyond.  Bow-Wow  shivered. 
He  was  thinly  clad.  He  had  been  used  to  sleep- 
ing in  all  his  clothes!  He  was  trembling,  too, 
from  head  to  foot,  with  a  strange  nausea. 

What  was  this  thing  which  had  happened  to 
him?  He  was  in  a  narrow,  white  room,  and  his 
bed  had  been  improvised  on  the  top  of  a  bath- 


THE  ENEMY  27 

tub,  two  mattresses  deep.  How  had  he  come 
here?  In  all  his  fuddled  consciousness,  he  could 
find  no  trace  of  an  answer  to  that  mystery,  and  the 
effort  at  any  thought  further  than  his  physical  self, 
wearied,  and  weakened,  and  sickened  him.  He 
gave  up  the  vague  and  feeble  attempt  at  reasoning, 
and  returned  to  the  one  idea  which  he  could  com- 
prehend —  whisky ! 

He  rose,  and  tottered  out  of  the  bathroom. 
He  found  himself  in  a  softly  carpeted  hall. 
There  was  a  light  at  the  end,  a  flickering,  waver- 
ing red  glow.  With  many  a  stop  for  breath  and 
strength,  and  steadying  of  nerves,  he  edged 
along  the  wall  until  he  reached  a  large  lounging- 
room,  comfortable  with  leather  chairs  and  couches, 
where  a  half  spent  log  in  the  fireplace  cast  the  ruddy 
reflections  of  its  dying  flames  upon  well-chosen  pic- 
tures and  queer  objects  of  art  from  every  quarter  of 
the  world.  Dazed,  bewildered,  he  stood  swaying, 
and  blinked  stupidly  at  the  fire. 

"  What  are  you  after,  Pop  —  whisky?  " 

The  lips  of  Bow-Wow  spread  in  a  formless 
smile. 

"  A  little  whisky,"  he  husked,  even  before  he 
turned  to  look  at  the  clear-eyed  Burke,  in  robe 
and  slippers,  and  with  his  red  hair  touseled  in  a 
thousand  curling  points. 


28  THE  ENEMY 

"  Let's  have  a  look  at  your  eyes,  sport." 
Without  ceremony,  Burke  flashed  on  a  light,  drew 
Billy  Lane's  guest  to  it  and  pulled  apart  the  lids 
of  his  right  eye.  He  nodded  in  business-like  sat- 
isfaction, and  left  Bow- Wow  standing  by  the  fire- 
place while  he  went  out  into  the  pantry.  He  was 
back  in  a  moment,  and  gave  the  man  a  glass  with 
a  carefully  measured  spoonful  of  whisky  in  it. 
Bow-Wow  clutched  at  the  glass  with  desperate 
eagerness!  He  lifted  it  to  his  lips  with  a  trem- 
bling hand,  and,  after  he  had  drunk  it,  he  shivered 
from  head  to  foot. 

"  Now  drink  this,"  commanded  Burke. 

'  This  "  was  a  greenish  compound,  which  the 
man  swallowed  obediently;  then  he  docilely  al- 
lowed Burke  to  lead  him  back  to  bed. 

Two  hours  passed.  Again  the  body  of  Bow- 
Wow  rose  in  imperious  command  over  the  seared 
mind  and  soul. 

"  Whisky!  "  he  gasped,  awakening  with  a  jerk. 
He  was  only  a  moment  now  in  coming  to  conscious- 
ness of  his  surroundings. 

In  the  kennel  he  had  spent  the  nights,  from  one 
o'clock  until  dawn,  with  only  occasional  cravings, 
which  he  could  resist  until  Mike  Dowd's  barten- 
der opened  the  Sink;  but  in  this  strange  environ- 
ment and  under  the  influence  of  the  medicine  which 


THE  ENEMY  29 

Burke  had  given  him,  his  craving  had  become  im- 
perative !  There  was  a  burning  in  him,  there  was 
fever  in  his  veins,  and  yet  he  shivered  with  the 
cold. 

"Whisky!  whisky!"  His  quavering  voice 
started  with  a  whine  and  ended  in  a  wail. 

He  knew  a  barrel-house  down  near  the  bridge 
which  kept  open  all  night.  He  had  fifteen  cents 
in  his  pocket.  Three  drinks !  The  sort  of  mem- 
ory which  is  little  more  than  instinct  told  him 
these  things.  He  began  a  nervous,  groping  search 
for  his  clothes. 

"What's  the  matter,  Pop?" 

The  voice  of  Burke,  clear,  strong,  hearty,  and 
still  with  an  underlying  gruffness.  Suddenly  Bow- 
Wow  detested  that  voice ! 

The  inherent  prompting  for  freedom  had  come 
upon  him.  He  was  cramped  here!  He  began 
to  be  aware  of  coercion;  and  there  is  no  human 
soul  so  debased,  so  feeble,  that  in  its  depths  it 
does  not  resent  coercion ! 

"  My  clothes !  "  he  demanded. 

"  Burnt  up,  Pop,"  was  the  cheerful  reply. 
"Have  a  drink?" 

Cunning  knotted  the  eyes  of  Bow-Wow.  He 
nodded  and  grunted.  He  took  the  drink;  but  he 
refused  the  green  potion. 


3o  THE  ENEMY 

"  My  clothes !  "  he  demanded.  He  had  for- 
gotten that  they  were  burned. 

"  Nothing  doing,  old  top,"  Burke  yawned. 
"  Billy  says  you're  to  stay  until  he  comes  back; 
and  you'll  stay  if  I  have  to  show  you  to  him  with 
a  lily  in  your  hands." 

The  bleared  eyes  of  Bow-Wow  narrowed. 

"  Lemme  out !  "  he  cried,  in  a  high,  wavering 
voice  which  rose  nearly  to  a  shriek. 

"  Come  on,  Pop,  be  a  good  little  sport.  You 
might  as  well  think  you're  in  luck  and  be  happy. 
God  knows  why  you're  here,  but  here  you  stay! 
And  if  you  holler  too  loud,  I'll  have  to  bat  you." 

The  man  subsided.  The  threat  was  one  he 
could  understand. 

"A  little  drink!"  he  begged. 

Burke  studied  him  carefully,  then  he  went  out  to 
the  pantry.  He  found  Bow-Wow  behind  him. 

11  A  big  drink!" 

Burke  calmly  poured,  measuring  the  quantity 
like  a  druggist.  Suddenly  the  decanter  was 
snatched  from  his  hand,  and  its  mouth  flashed  up 
to  Bow- Wow's  lips !  He  had  gulped  down  three 
or  four  ounces  before  the  decanter  was  recovered. 

"  Now  you've  done  it !  "  worried  the  soldier  of 
fortune,  who  had  gained  his  experience  in  field 


THE  ENEMY  31 

hospitals,  and  in  mining  camps,  and  in  private 
service.  "  Get  back  to  bed !  " 

Bow- Wow  grinned.  A  leer  of  triumph  was  in 
his  eyes.  Without  a  word,  he  turned  and  reeled 
back  to  his  couch,  while  Burke  locked  up  the  liquor. 

Burke  did  not  retire  this  time.  He  put  a  fresh 
log  on  the  fire  in  the  lounging-room.  He  went 
into  his  own  apartment,  brought  out  a  battered 
little  old  surgical  case,  produced  a  hypodermic 
syringe,  washed  it  and  asepticized  it,  laid  a  little 
phial  of  tablets  on  the  mantel  beside  it,  set  a  glass 
of  water  with  these,  lit  the  charred  briar  which 
had  been  a  soldier  of  fortune  with  him,  and  sat 
down  to  wait  with  calm  philosophy.  Three 
o'clock.  It  was  time  for  Billy;  past  time,  in  these 
days  when  the  young  architect  had  so  much  im- 
portant work  on  hand.  Instinctively  Burke's  eyes 
roved  to  the  glass  of  green  liquid  which  Bow-Wow 
had  refused.  He'd  probably  have  to  make  a 
fresh  dose  for  his  master.  He  sighed  and  shook 
his  head,  and  worry  came  upon  his  brow.  He 
liked  Billy. 

The  quarter  chimed;  the  half;  the  three-quar- 
ters. Burke  heard  them  all,  and  heard,  too,  every 
machine  which  stopped  in  the  street;  and  as  the 
time  passed,  the  shadow  on  Burke's  brow  deep- 


32  THE  ENEMY 

ened.  How  many  nights  he  had  sat  thus  by  the 
fire,  waiting;  waiting  until  the  dawn  streaked  the 
sky.  Such  nights  had  become  more  frequent  of 
late.  They  had  come  so  frequently  that  Burke 
awoke  naturally  at  two  o'clock,  if  Billy  had  not 
called  him.  The  hour  struck,  and  Burke  did  not 
hear  it.  He  was  asleep  in  the  stiffest  of  the 
leather  chairs,  and  his  pipe  was  on  the  floor. 

A  voice  roused  him,  a  thin,  high-pitched,  wav- 
ering voice.  The  dawn  was  stealing  in  at  the 
window. 

"Jean!"   called  the  voice.     "Jean!" 

Bow- Wow;  he  stood,  swaying,  in  the  center 
of  the  room,  gazing  about  him  with  widened  eyes, 
and  there  was  no  need  now  for  Burke  to  pull  open 
the  man's  lids. 

"Where's  Tavy's  doll?"  went  on  the  waver- 
ing voice.  "Jean!  Tavy's  sick!"  The  voice 
mumbled  and  muttered,  and  rose  and  fell,  as  the 
man  stumbled  about  the  room  in  a  groping  search 
for  something,  he  knew  not  what.  He  was  a 
grotesque  figure,  a  monstrous  figure,  bent  and 
weaving  in  his  loose  pajamas,  with  his  straggling 
hair  and  beard.  Burke  had  scrubbed  these  hirsute 
adornments,  and  now  the  man's  hair  stood  out 
in  a  silvery-white  aureole,  which,  contrasting  with 
his  staring,  reddened  eyes,  gave  him  an  aspect 


THE  ENEMY  33 

of  uncanny  wildness.  "  Jean !  "  The  voice  was 
sharper,  higher  pitched,  more  querulous.  "  That 
bridge  contract,  Jean!  I  can't  find  it!"  Again 
an  unintelligible  muttering.  There  was  a  noise 
in  the  hall  outside.  The  man,  startled,  listened 
intently.  "  What's  that !  "  A  sharper  tone,  but 
with  fear  in  it. 

Burke  quietly  rose  and  went  to  the  mantel. 
He  opened  the  little  phial  and  tried  to  shake  one 
of  the  pellets  into  his  palm.  They  had  been 
there  a  long  time,  and  they  stuck.  He  shook  and 
shook  the  phial. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  piercing  scream,  a  com- 
mingling of  terror,  of  rage,  of  frenzy,  of  all  the 
wild  emotions  which  a  disordered  fancy  could  con- 
jure up!  Before  Burke  could  turn,  the  man  was 
upon  him  from  behind,  and  clutching  his  throat 
with  long,  lean  fingers,  in  which  there  was  mani- 
acal strength ! 


CHAPTER  IV 

ON  THE   WAY 

WHAT  a  hilarious  place  is  the  world! 
How  jovial  is  life!  Who  gives  a  rap 
for  dull  care?  Work  was  made  for 
slaves.  Life  is  short  and  you're  a  long  time  dead. 
Fill  'em  up  again,  boys,  and  let's  laugh  at  some- 
thing. No,  let's  sing  a  song.  Who'll  oblige? 
Tommy  Tinkle !  No  evidence  of  alcoholic  excess 
about  good  old  Tommy  Tinkle.  There  he  stands, 
clear-eyed,  chin  up,  and  with  that  whimsical  grin 
on  his  wide  face.  He  even  seems  extra  humor- 
ous since  his  return  from  the  Bennings'.  It  is 
scarcely  an  hour  since  that  twitch  of  pain  which 
followed  the  click  of  the  latch.  Will  Tommy 
Tinkle  lead  in  song?  To  be  sure!  Listen. 

"  The  Demon  Rum  is  a  grand  old  friend, 
He  cripples  your  frame  from  end  to  end; 
He  starves  your  wife,  he  makes  you  a  bum, 
So  here's  a  toast  to  the  Demon  Rum. 
Turn  —  Turn !  " 
34 


THE  ENEMY  35 

Ha,  Ha !  Great  little  song  that !  Eh,  fellows  ? 
That's  Tommy  Tinkle  for  you!  Always  some- 
thing fresh  and  original.  Have  a  drink,  Tommy  1 
Now  let's  all  sing  it! 

Everybody  sings  it,  with  particular  emphasis  on 
the  turn-turn;  a  double  slap  of  the  hands  on  the 
club  bar.  Billy  Lane's  voice  is  among  the  rest, 
a  strong  sympathetic  baritone,  but  just  now  a  little 
uncertain  as  to  key.  Billy's  silk  hat  is  on  the  back 
of  his  head,  and  his  hair  is  rumpled.  The  other 
fellows  have  their  hats  in  the  check-room,  but 
Billy's  going  home  in  a  minute  or  so  for  the  past 
hour.  He  has  an  important  business  engagement 
in  the  morning.  In  the  meantime,  he's  having  the 
session  of  his  life ! 

Have  a  drink,  Tommy!  Have  a  drink,  Sam! 
What's  yours,  Bert?  Come  on,  fellows,  let's  sing. 
Where's  Jack  Greeves?  We  want  a  good  bass. 
Oh,  here  you  are,  Jack,  right  at  my  elbow.  Been 
standing  here  an  hour,  eh?  What  do  you  think 
of  that!  Drink  up  and  have  another,  Jack. 
Now,  Tommy,  The  Demon  Rum!  What  a  jolly 
world  it  is,  to  be  sure!  Everybody's  a  fine  fel- 
low! 

Tommy  Tinkle  vetoes  the  idea  of  more  song. 
Why  be  monotonous,  when  life  is  so  full  of  the  dif- 
ferent? Tommy  gives  a  lecture  on  the  Demon 


36  THE  ENEMY 

Rum,  with  all  his  friends  and  himself  as  the  hor- 
rible example.  Screamingly  funny  thing !  Tommy, 
with  a  keen  and  clever  wit,  hits  off  the  foibles  and 
peculiarities  of  each  one  in  the  crowd;  and  the 
place  resounds  with  laughter.  Wonderful  chap, 
Tommy!  Especially  snappy  to-night.  Have  a 
drink,  old  man!  Encore!  Encore!  You 
skipped  Sam  Langster,  Tommy! 

No.  Tommy  will  not  conclude  or  continue  his 
lecture  on  the  Demon  Rum.  He  will  draw  a  pic- 
ture of  the  Demon  Rum,  that  they  may  see  with 
their  own  eyes  this  devouring  monster,  and  be 
properly  warned! 

Where's  a  sheet  of  paper?  Where's  crayon? 
Tommy  Tinkle's  going  to  draw !  Here  they  are, 
produced  like  magic  out  of  nowhere;  a  big  sheet 
of  coarse  yellow  paper  and  a  box  of  colored  cray- 
ons. The  sheet  of  paper  is  tacked  on  the  wall. 

That's  a  magnificent  piece  of  art,  an  astounding 
work;  a  fangless,  snarling,  blear-eyed  genie  of  de- 
pravity, peering  out  of  a  somber  blue  pit,  and  sur- 
rounded by  weird  green  and  yellow  vapors,  dark 
red  eyes,  dark  red  tongue  and  mouth,  and  a  face 
criss-crossed  by  countless  little  purple  and  blue  and 
red  blood  veins.  It  is  a  terrible  thing;  a  ghastly 
thing ! 

But  Tommy  Tinkle  is  not  yet  through,  and  the 


THE  ENEMY  37 

wide  grin  beneath  his  pointed  nose  is  a  creature 
of.  active  life  in  itself.  An  idea  from  the  supper 
party  has  been  left  over  in  Tommy's  wayward 
brain;  and  he  adds  a  few  deft  strokes. 

Why,  it's  Billy  Lane!  Great  stuff,  Tommy! 
The  laughter  is  long  and  loud.  There  is  no  stop- 
ping it.  The  fellows  fairly  double  up  with  joy, 
and  have  to  sit  down  and  rest,  and  have  their 
drinks  brought  to  them.  Among  the  loudest  of 
the  laughers  is  Billy  Lane.  No  one  has  a  keener 
appreciation  of  genius  than  he,  and  there  is  no 
one  more  capable  of  taking  a  joke  on  himself.  By 
George,  that's  a  masterpiece!  Billy  claims  it. 
He's  going  to  take  it  home  and  frame  it ! 

Where's  Jack  Greeves?  Why,  here  he  is  in 
the  corner,  asleep.  Where's  Sam  Langster? 
What,  is  Sam  gone?  Yes,  they  took  him  out  to 
his  chauffeur.  Where's  Bert?  Where's  Hal? 
Where's  Charley?  Where's  the  bunch?  Scat- 
tered; dropped  out  one  at  a  time.  Here,  this 
won't  do!  There's  still  light  and  laughter  and 
gaiety  in  the  world !  Wake  up,  Jack,  we're  going 
to  sing!  Dead;  dead  to  the  world;  dead,  all  but 
his  snore.  It  occurs  to  Tommy  Tinkle  to  utilize 
a  ticker  waste-basket  and  some  of  the  coarse  yel- 
low paper,  and  to  erect  a  tombstone  at  Jack's  feet; 
which  is  accordingly  done;  but  there  is  no  one, 


38  THE  ENEMY 

aside  from  the  club  attendants,  to  laugh  at  it, 
except  Billy  and  Tommy.  They  are  all  alone  in 
the  world,  and  the  world  looks  dim.  See;  out 
of  the  windows  the  dawn  is  breaking.  It's  too 
late  to  go  to  bed. 

Tommy  Tinkle  has  another  flash  of  genius. 
Billy's  car  is  waiting.  They  know  a  roadhouse 
where  the  proprietor  makes  his  own  sausage. 
Suppose  they  ride  out  there  for  breakfast,  wake 
up  old  Christian  and  have  some  sausage  and  eggs. 
Bar  boy,  put  us  up  a  bottle  of  the  club  special. 

Billy  has  a  thought.  Suppose  they  run  up  to 
Tommy's  rooms  and  change  their  clothes.  Sup- 
pose they  have  a  cold  shower.  Why,  they'll  be 
fresh  for  the  day.  Billy  will  be  in  a  fine  shape  for 
that  business  appointment.  Done.  Done  in  no 
time  at  all.  As  they  dash  down  for  the  bottle 
of  club  special,  on  their  way  out,  Billy  discovers 
the  Demon  Rum,  its  red  eyes  gleaming  on  him 
with  a  peculiarly  challenging  leer.  Come  along, 
Demon  Rum.  Have  a  little  morning  ride.  The 
Demon  Rum,  still  with  that  knowing  leer  in  his 
red  eyes,  permits  himself  to  be  taken  from  the 
wall,  rolled  up  and  tucked  under  Billy's  arm. 
Ha,  Ha!  Billy  Lane  is  a  young  man  worth 
while;  a  young  man  with  a  sound  body,  a  clear 
brain,  brilliant  prospects,  and  with  already  a  rec- 


THE  ENEMY  39 

ord  of  achievements  of  which  any  young  man 
might  well  be  proud !  Just  the  sort  for  the  Demon 
Rum;  and  in  his  roll  of  yellow  paper,  he  leers 
his  red  leer  and  snarls  his  red  snarl ! 

Out  in  the  crisp,  cool  morning.  The  snow  has 
stopped,  and  the  sky  is  clearing,  the  clouds  in  the 
east  are  tinged  a  delicate  rose.  Glorious  to  be  out 
in  the  dawning  day;  glorious  to  drive  swiftly 
through  the  invigorating  air;  glorious  to  have  the 
still  sleeping  world  to  one's  self  amid  the  lifting 
mists  of  the  morning;  glorious  to  have  youth, 
friends,  laughter! 

The  Demon  Rum  rests  alongside  Billy  in  the 
car.  Geraldine !  By  George,  Tommy,  Gerald- 
ine  would  love  the  fresh  morning  ride.  Let's  go 
back  and  get  her.  The  idea  does  not  appeal  to 
Tommy.  Not  because  it's  unconventional,  for 
Three-B  Benning  and  Geraldine's  placid  mother 
have  more  than  once  sanctioned  expeditions  as  in- 
formal as  this ;  but  Tommy  feels  that  the  fact  that 
they  stayed  up,  rather  than  got  up,  makes  a  slight 
difference. 

It's  Billy's  car.  They  go  back  after  Geraldine. 
That  charming  young  lady,  roused  by  a  still  sleepy 
maid,  appears  presently  in  as  pink  perfection  as 
if  she  had  taken  hours  to  make  her  toilette.  She 
is  in  an  astounding  pretty  pink  morning  frock, 


40  THE  ENEMY 

and  her  eyes  are  sparkling  and  her  cheeks  fresh 
and  her  laugh  gay  as  she  trips  down  the  stairs. 
Always  in  for  a  lark,  is  Geraldine,  especially  with 
Tommy  and  Billy. 

She  stops  abruptly  as  she  sees  them  in  the  light ! 
Tommy  is  grinning  cheerfully,  but  his  eyes  show 
the  effect  of  the  wind.  Billy  is  grinning,  too,  but 
it  is  a  set  grin,  with  no  meaning,  but  just  general 
good  nature.  Hilarious  world  we're  living  in; 
great  place  for  a  joke,  eh  Tommy?  Poor  Billy! 

Will  Geraldine  join  them  in  a  fresh  little  morn- 
ing run  out  to  old  Christian's,  for  sausage  and 
eggs?  She  will  not!  Most  emphatically,  she 
will  not!  She  takes  it  upon  herself  to  scold  both 
boys  sharply  for  their  utterly  senseless  indiscre- 
tion; for  spending  the  night  with  companions  far 
beneath  them;  for  permitting  themselves  to  fall 
into  this  disgraceful  condition,  and,  first  and  fore- 
most, last  and  finally,  for  presuming  to  come  here ! 

A  monk-like  figure  spats  down  the  stairs,  in 
broad  sandals  and  high-girthed  robe  and  crumpled 
cowl;  Three-B  Benning.  He  has  felt  it  his  duty 
to  investigate.  There  is  a  twinkle  of  understand- 
ing in  his  eyes  as  he  surveys  the  boys,  and  a  sly 
purpose  springs  instantly  into  his  mind. 

Why  don't  they  stay  here  to  breakfast?  Ham 
hash,  with  poached  eggs;  a  triumph  of  matutinal 


THE  ENEMY  41 

culinary  art.  Good  old  Benning!  Of  course 
they'll  stay!  Skillful  idea,  that!  B.  B.  will  en- 
tertain the  boys  himself,  and  can  set  them  back 
upon  their  normal  way!  But  Geraldine  vigor- 
ously vetoes  the  suggestion;  and  the  Demon  Rum, 
rolled  snugly  in  Billy's  pocket,  and  poking  up  be- 
tween his  arm  and  his  overcoat  lapel,  leers  his  red 
leer  and  snarls  his  red  snarl !  What  a  worth-while 
young  man  Billy  is ;  a  game  with  which  any  hunter 
might  well  be  pleased. 

The  aggravating  part  of  it  is  that  the  boys  are 
still  happy,  the  world  is  still  a  hilarious  place,  life 
is  still  jovial,  and  a  scolding,  especially  from  a 
fluffy  pink  person  like  Geraldine,  is  only  funny. 
Fatal  viewpoint!  Geraldine,  with  a  little  sweep 
of  temper,  which  would  have  been  merely  piquant 
to  Billy  had  he  not  carried  that  roll  of  paper 
under  his  arm,  energetically  explains  that  the  Ben- 
ning house  is  not  a  sanitarium,  that  the  boys  shall 
go  right  ahead  and  sink  to  just  as  low  a  stage  of 
brutal  degradation  as  it  is  possible  for  them  to 
attain !  Go  finish  the  spree !  Good-by ! 

Finish  the  spree,  eh?  Fine  idea!  There  has 
come  a  stubborn  set  on  Billy's  lips  and  a  hard 
glint  in  Billy's  eye.  Poor  Billy!  But  where  is 
the  roll  of  yellow  paper?  Gone!  Was  that  it 
flashing  down  through  the  grating  of  the  areaway, 


42  THE  ENEMY 

or  did  it  pop  straight  up  in  the  air  and  fly  back  to 
the  Devil?  There  is  not  much  difference,  because 
the  Demon  Rum  is  not  on  the  roll  of  yellow  paper. 
It  has  jumped  straight  into  Billy  Lane,  where  it 
ensconces  itself  gleefully,  and  howls  for  drink! 
Come  on,  Tommy,  thanks  Three  B.  No,  can't 
stop  in.  Got  a  date  with  the  Demon  Rum. 
Come  on,  Tommy.  I  say,  come  on! 

Glorious  to  be  out  in  the  early  morning,  eh, 
Tommy,  glorious  to  drive  swiftly  through  the  in- 
vigorating air,  glorious  to  have  the  drowsily  wak- 
ening world  to  one's  self  amid  the  lifting  mists  of 
the  dawning  day;  glorious  to  have  youth,  friends, 
laughter!  Work  was  made  for  slaves!  Was 
there  an  appointment  of  some  sort?  Forget  it. 
Finish  the  spree,  eh ! 

Old  Christian  is  cross  when  he  pokes  his  night- 
capped  head  from  the  second-story  window. 
Early  roisterers  who  drag  him  out  of  bed  for 
fifty  cents'  worth  of  drink  are  the  bane  of  Chris- 
tian's life!  But  these  are  two  gentlemen.  Oh! 
It  is  Mr.  Tommy  and  Mr.  Billy;  and  they  rep- 
resent that  solvent  of  all  sorrows,  money!  The 
gentlemen  want  sausage  and  eggs.  Old  Christian 
removes  his  funny  scarlet  nightcap,  and  comes 
right  down.  Billy  and  Tommy  go  into  the  bil- 
liard room  while  they  wait,  and  old  Christian 


THE  ENEMY  43 

brings  them  an  appetizer,  some  of  his  best  im- 
ported schnaps.  Finish  the  spree,  eh!  The  De- 
mon Rum  chortles. 

They  play  billiards,  and  every  awkward  shot 
is  a  cause  of  merriment.  There  is  still  laughter  in 
the  world,  except  for  one  fixed  idea.  Billy's  no- 
tions are  in  a  haze;  as,  for  instance,  he  is  just 
about  to  try,  for  the  fourth  time,  to  hit  his  cue 
ball,  when  suddenly  he  finds  himself  seated  at  the 
breakfast  table,  with  a  compote  of  delicious  look- 
ing fruit  before  him.  Outside  the  sun  rides  in 
the  misty  sky,  a  huge  red  ball;  the  bare  trees  in- 
terlace their  branches  against  the  background  of 
the  glistening  river.  Rather  raw  the  air  is. 
Watch  out!  They  skid  dangerously  near  the 
ditch  that  time.  The  chauffeur  has  had  a  drink 
or  two,  to  warm  him.  Oh  yes,  they  are  in  the 
machine  again.  Did  Billy  taste  his  fruit?  He 
doesn't  remember,  and  he  has  no  memory  at  all 
of  the  sausage  and  eggs,  though  he  detects  the 
taste  of  coffee  in  his  mouth. 

Why,  here's  a  village!  There's  a  saloon  with 
a  door  wide  open,  and  an  Italian  in  a  faded  blue 
blouse  is  scrubbing  the  floor.  The  Demon  Rum 
howls  for  a  drink! 

Blankness;  total  blankness;  there  is  a  confused 
jumble  of  motion,  of  changing  from  place  to  place, 


44  THE  ENEMY 

of  taking  a  drink.  Occasionally  there  is  the  voice 
of  Tommy,  steady,  solid,  unwavering.  Tommy 
is  singing  the  ditty  to  the  Demon  Rum.  He  is 
giving  a  lecture  on  astronomy.  There  is  a  fight 
somewhere.  Was  Billy  in  the  fight,  or  only  a 
witness?  He  is  not  sure.  It  was  such  a  long, 
long  time  ago  1 

Scenes  shift  strangely,  too;  now  country,  now 
village,  now  city;  now  on  foot,  now  in  the  machine, 
now  on  Fifth  Avenue,  now  in  the  club ;  but  always 
with  that  one  fixed  idea.  Finish  the  spree,  eh! 
Now  Billy  is  alone,  except  for  the  Demon  Rum. 
Billy  has  had  to  sneak  away  from  Tommy,  be- 
cause some  instinct  tells  him  that  Tommy  lacks 
the  pertinacity  to  take  this  little  excursion.  Billy 
will  go  back  to  the  club  and  find  Tommy  when  he 
is  through  his  errand. 

Hello,  Billy  is  here!  Where  is  here?  His 
eyes  are  puffed  nearly  shut,  and  they  hurt  when  he 
opens  them  to  look  around.  His  eyes  are  tired. 
Billy  himself  is  tired!  His  own  voice  sounds 
strange  and  far-off  to  him,  and  shrill,  as  he  asks 
his  sleepy  chauffeur  a  question.  Oh,  yes,  they're 
out  in  the  suburbs,  and  the  lamps  gleam  again  in 
the  dusk,  and  this  is  a  familiar  house.  Benning's. 
Why  did  Billy  come  here?  Oh  yes,  he  has  to 


THE  ENEMY  45 

show  himself  to  Geraldine,  now  that  he  has  fin- 
ished his  spree ! 

He  does.  He  exhibits  his  finished  spree  to  her 
just  one  brief  instant  before  the  door  slams;  and 
out  of  the  puffed  and  inflamed  countenance  of  poor 
Billy  the  Demon  Rum  leers  his  red  leer  and  snarls 
his  red  snarl! 


CHAPTER  V 

THE  DISAPPEARANCE  OF  BOW-WOW 

THIN  bands  as  of  steel  were  about  the 
throat  of  Martin  Burke,  and,  strong  man 
though  he  was,  he  could  not  turn,  nor 
break  the  grip  of  those  maniacal  fingers!  With 
the  cunning  of  frenzy,  the  white-haired  madman 
had  drawn  back  Burke's  head  so  that  he  could 
only  wave  his  arms  helplessly,  while  above  him 
bent  that  distorted  face  with  the  glaring  red  eyes ! 
Burke's  own  eyes  were  distended,  his  breath  was 
stopped,  and  his  face  was  purpling,  when  the  door 
was  thrown  open  and  Nora  Maloney,  as  big  and 
as  broad  and  as  strong  as  the  grandfather  who  had 
led  the  Fenians,  came  dashing  in,  with  a  huge  hand 
ready  for  the  fray.  In  one  more  minute,  Bow- 
Wow,  his  fever  of  strength  all  spent,  was  lying 
flat  on  the  floor,  and  the  Widow  Maloney,  her 
thick  ankles  sticking  straight  before  her,  was  sit- 
ting on  him,  the  ruddy  glow  of  the  fire  and  the 
ruddy  light  of  the  dawn  blending  with  the  ruddy 
flush  of  her  face. 

46 


THE  ENEMY  47 

"  Your  life  belongs  to  me,  Martin  Burke,"  she 
puffed,  twisting  her  fallen  hair  into  a  scraggly 
knot.  "  I  think  I  saved  it  for  you." 

"  You  did  that,"  assented  Martin  grudgingly, 
for  he  had  his  suspicions  of  the  Widow  Maloney's 
intentions  regarding  him.  "  I  take  it  as  a  gift, 
but  I  can  never  repay  you ;  so  it  would  be  no  use  to 
try."  He  was  feeling  of  his  throat. 

"  Well,  there's  always  ways,"  considered  jani- 
tress  Nora,  and  cast  up  at  the  stalwart  fellow  a 
glance  and  a  smile  of  great  friendliness. 

"  Where's  my  needle?  "  growled  Burke,  wisely 
changing  the  subject  and  searching  the  floor. 

He  found  the  hypodermic  beneath  the  couch, 
and  then,  as  methodically  as  if  nothing  had  hap- 
pened, he  prepared  his  solution,  and  filled  his 
needle,  and  gave  Bow- Wow  the  injection. 

"  A  case  of  the  jerries,"  guessed  Mrs.  Ma- 
loney,  as  Martin  gallantly  helped  her  to  her  feet. 
"  It's  many's  the  time  I  handled  Andy  Maloney 
when  he  had  the  jerries.  The  best  way  I  found 
was  to  clout  him  behind  the  ear  with  a  stick  of 
stove  wood." 

"  It's  a  favorite  domestic  method,"  drily  com- 
mented Burke.  "  I  don't  think  this  is  a  regular 
case  of  the  tremens  just  yet,"  he  went  on,  studying 
the  now  quiet  Bow- Wow.  The  man  had  not  sue- 


48  THE  ENEMY 

cumbed  to  the  drug,  but  he  was  weak  from  over- 
exertion.  "  He'll  have  the  sure-enough  jim-jams 
in  about  two  days ;  but  if  I  have  him  sober  enough, 
in  between,  to  answer  questions  for  the  boss,  I'll 
be  very  well  satisfied."  He  picked  up  Bow- Wow 
and  carried  him  to  the  bed,  as  if  the  man  were  a 
child. 

"Shall  I  sit  with  you?"  offered  Nora,  out  of 
the  goodness  of  her  heart. 

"  You  shall  not,"  refused  Burke  promptly.  It 
was  in  his  nature  to  blarney  Mrs.  Maloney,  but  it 
was  in  his  wisdom  not  to.  So,  all  by  himself, 
he  remained  at  Bow-Wow's  bedside  until  the 
stupor  of  the  drug  had  set  in;  then  he  lay  down 
on  the  couch  in  the  lounging-room  for  a  nap.  The 
man  was  safe  for  a  few  hours.  No  Billy  as  yet. 

No  Billy  when  Burke  awoke,  with  the  bright 
sun  streaming  in  at  the  windows  of  the  lounging- 
room,  and  with  Nora  Maloney  shaking  him  by  the 
shoulders. 

;<  The  saints  be  thanked !  "  said  Nora,  as  he 
opened  his  eyes.  "  I  thought  for  a  while  that 
you'd  shot  the  drug  into  the  wrong  man,  for  I've 
been  ringing  your  bell  and  pounding  on  your  door 
this  past  hour." 

"  That's  kind  of  you,  Mrs.  Maloney,"  returned 


THE  ENEMY  49 

Burke.     Rubbing  his  eyes,  and  springing  up,  he 
went  to  the  door  of  Billy's  room.     Empty! 

With  a  frown  of  worry,  he  visited  Bow-Wow. 
The  tramp  was  lying  wide  awake,  but  there  was 
no  delirium  in  his  eyes.  He  was  too  weak,  how- 
ever, to  rise. 

"  The  top  of  the  morning  to  you,  Pop,"  greeted 
Burke  cheerfully.  "  How's  your  appetite?  " 

"  Water !  "  moaned  Bow- Wow. 

"  Never  mind,  Old  Sport,  we'll  have  you  out 
and  well  chirked  up  in  less  than  no  time.  If  I've 
time  to-day  I'll  give  you  a  hair  cut,  and  we'll  trim 
your  chinchillas." 

He  bustled  out  to  the  pantry,  and  into  the  man's 
glass  of  water  he  poured  something  from  his  stock 
of  rough  medicines.  He  hesitated  before  he  pre- 
pared this  dose.  It  would  strengthen  and  clear 
the  patient  for  a  day,  but  the  relapse  would  be  seri- 
ous. "  Anyway,"  decided  Burke,  as  a  sop  to  his 
own  conscience,  "  the  man  couldn't  escape  the  jer- 
ries sooner  or  later,  and  he's  in  good  hands." 

"  Shall  I  stay  and  help  you?  "  offered  Mrs.  Ma- 
loney,  looking  the  cherry  comforter  which  she  was 
willing  to  be. 

1  You  shall  not,"  refused  Burke  emphatically, 
and,    taking   no    offense,    Nora   left   him    alone. 


50  THE  ENEMY 

There  is  always  time  until  eternity  comes  to  an 
end. 

That  was  a  busy  day  for  Burke,  but  he  was  glad 
that  it  was.  It  kept  him  from  worry.  There 
were  a  dozen  telephone  calls  for  Billy;  and  Joe 
Mullen,  the  superintendent  of  the  Pannard  Build- 
ing, quit  the  day  angry.  He  had  called  off  his 
men..  There  was  nothing  he  could  do  until  he 
knew  what  to  do;  and  where,  in  the  name  of  all 
the  hottest  places  Joe  could  mention,  was  Billy! 
Why  didn't  he  tend  to  business!  He  wasn't  at 
his  office,  he  wasn't  at  his  club,  he  wasn't  at  his 
home !  Burke  nearly  fought  Joe  Mullen.  If  he 
could  have  reached  through  the  telephone  he 
would  have  done  so.  It  would  have  been  a  great 
relief  to  him. 

Bow-Wow,  in  a  worried  day  like  this,  was  a 
godsend.  Artificially  strengthened  and  sobered 
by  Burke's  guileful  aid,  he  submitted  to  all  the 
strenuous  things  which  were  done  to  him,  even  to 
a  hair-cutting  and  a  beard-trimming  and  a  mani- 
curing. At  five  o'clock,  Burke,  planning  Billy's 
possible  dinner,  came  in  and  looked  at  Bow-Wow 
critically;  then  a  sudden  humorous  idea  seized  him, 
and  he  went  to  his  own  wardrobe,  where  hung 
some  of  Billy's  and  Tommy  Tinkle's  discarded 
clothing. 


THE  ENEMY  51 

"  Back  yourself  into  these,  Pop,"  he  directed, 
and  went  away  laughing. 

Half  an  hour  later,  he  returned  with  a  carefully 
measured  drink.  It  was  time  Bow- Wow  had  a  lit- 
tle whisky,  if  he  was  to  be  kept  in  strength  and 
sanity  for  Billy. 

"  Here's  your  liquor,  Pop,"  he  sang  cheerily, 
as  he  came  through  the  hall. 

At  the  door  he  stopped,  stricken  dumb,  and  he 
almost  dropped  the  glass !  Before  him  was  a  tall, 
spare,  straight,  elderly  gentleman,  with  waving 
white  hair  and  a  neatly  cropped  silver  Vandyke. 
He  was  in  evening  clothes,  and  his  white  bow  tie 
was  quite  properly  made.  He  stood  by  the  win- 
dow, looking  calmly  out  at  the  street  lamps  as  they 
sprang,  in  the  dusk,  into  huge  tinted  pearls.  He 
was  smoking  one  of  Billy's  cigarettes. 

"  I  thought  you  might  like  a  little  drink,  Mr. 
Doe,"  stammered  the  man  who  had  wrought  this 
miracle  in  Bow-Wow. 

'  Thank  you,  Burke."  The  voice  was  low,  and 
still  a  trifle  husky,  but  it  had  in  it  a  modulation 
which  Bow-Wow  had  lost.  He  took  the  glass, 
with  a  hand  the  temporary  firmness  of  which  gave 
Burke's  conscience  another  jab,  and  he  looked  into 
the  depths  of  the  oily  liquid  thoughtfully  for  a  mo- 
ment. "  I  suppose  I  need  this,"  he  considered 


52  THE  ENEMY 

slowly,  as  if  he  were  debating  whether  to  cast  it 
aside.  He  drank  it,  but  with  a  shudder.  The 
drugs  with  which  Burke  had  plied  him,  and  with 
which  he  was  stimulated  and  upheld,  had  made 
liquor  more  or  less  nauseating.  He  reached  for  a 
carafe  of  water,  and,  with  an  effort,  poured  himself 
a  drink,  while  Burke  watched  him  in  fascination. 

No,  Burke  had  not  wrought  this  miracle.  He 
had  only  supplied  the  setting,  that  discarded  dress 
suit.  At  first  he  had  wondered  whether  his  sud- 
den deference  was  a  tribute  to  the  man  or  the 
dress  suit.  Now  he  saw  it  was  the  man.  He  had 
expected  to  find  Bow-Wow  sheepishly  surveying 
himself  in  these,  to  him,  ludicrous  garments.  In- 
stead, he  found  John  Doe  wearing  them  with 
grateful  enjoyment,  and  as  no  man  could  wear 
them  without  years  of  habit. 

"Anything  else,  sir?" 

"  Nothing  just  now,  thank  you."  A  calm,  even 
tone,  one  used  to  simple  command. 

Burke  went  in  and  aired  the  blue  room! 

Left  to  himself,  John  Doe  relaxed  a  trifle  of 
the  straightness  of  his  shoulders  and  the  erectness 
of  his  carriage.  It  had  been  an  effort  to  fill  his 
formal  garments  so  smoothly  before  Burke,  but 
the  exertion  had  been  good  for  him.  It  had 
helped  to  bring  him  nearer  to  that  person  whom  he 


THE  ENEMY  53 

had  been  before  he  had  become  Bow- Wow  of  the 
Bowery.  He  walked  over  to  the  mirror,  and 
gazed  with  earnest  inquiry  into  that  worn  and 
abused  countenance,  as  if  striving  to  trace  in  it 
something  which  he  vaguely  remembered  from 
long  ago. 

It  was  of  no  use,  and,  restless  and  distressed, 
he  wandered  about  the  rooms.  The  chemical 
counteractant  which  Burke  had  put  against  his 
years  of  alcoholic  stupor  had  only  restored  to  him, 
from  that  old  life,  the  things  which  had  been  of 
automatic  habit.  It  had  not  cleared  his  numbed 
mind  of  its  paralysis. 

In  the  library  he  found  something  at  last  which 
chained  his  attention;  a  drawing-table  near  the 
window.  On  the  board  was  tacked  a  half  finished 
working  plan,  composed  of  many  strange  angling 
lines.  They  seemed  to  have  no  particular  form 
or  completion,  and  to  the  eye  of  one  unskilled  in 
iron-work  they  would  have  little  meaning;  yet 
John  Doe  seemed  held  by  them.  He  returned 
to  the  board  again  and  again,  and  each  time  his 
brows  knotted.  Two  or  three  minutes  of  this  was 
all  he  could  stand  at  one  attempt.  The  effort 
was  as  weakening  as  it  would  have  been  for  him 
to  carry  coal.  Those  lines,  in  their  logical  rela- 
tion to  each  other,  meant  something;  and  deep 


54  THE  ENEMY 

within  John  Doe  there  stirred  an  impulse,  an 
awakening,  a  desire  which  he  could  not  fathom. 

He  laid  hold  of  the  T  square,  and  moved  it  up 
and  down ;  he  held  its  head  firmly  against  the  edge 
of  the  board,  so  that  the  blade,  as  it  moved,  was 
kept  perfectly  at  right  angles  to  the  drawing. 
Only  an  experienced  draughtsman  acquires  that 
knack.  He  picked  up  a  pencil  with  a  long,  hard, 
sharp  point,  and  drew  a  faint  line  along  the  bot- 
tom of  the  paper.  He  had  seemed,  to  himself, 
to  be  doing  this  out  of  curiosity;  but  the  line  was 
even  with  the  edge  of  the  T  square  blade  along  its 
full  length.  An  inexperienced  draughtsman  tilts 
his  pencil  backward  as  he  draws  such  a  line,  so  that 
it  varies  from  a  true  right  angle  in  a  long  im- 
perceptible parabola. 

John  Doe  sat  down  and  buried  his  head  in  his 
hands.  Burke  glanced  in  at  him  and  then  passed 
the  door,  but  the  guest  sat  perfectly  motionless. 
This  man  was  searching  earnestly  for  his  mind, 
for  his  memory,  for  a  long-forgotten  world,  in 
which  there  were  ambitions,  and  joys,  and  achieve- 
ments worth  while !  No  struggle  for  the  regain- 
ing of  a  lost  soul  was  ever  more  pathetic  than 
this  terrible  battle  for  a  lost  mentality.  The  rec- 
ords graven  by  memory  on  the  intricate  convolu- 
tions of  the  brain  are  never  entirely  effaced  except 


THE  ENEMY  55 

by  death;  and  be  they  good  deeds  or  be  they  bad, 
those  deeds  stalk  from  their  hidden  recesses  of 
the  scroll  to  confront  us  at  the  most  unexpected 
moments.  They  may  be  blurred,  they  may  be 
clogged  with  the  dust  of  neglect,  and  faint  from 
the  rust  of  disuse,  but  they  are  there  like  lines 
incised  in  marble,  to  be  deciphered  when  the  sur- 
face is  cleared. 

So  it  was  that  John  Doe,  sitting  in  the  big  li- 
brary chair,  peered  and  peered  into  the  dark  places 
of  his  long-forsaken  mind,  until,  at  a  sudden  turn, 
he  found  two  names:  Jean!  Tavy!  It  was  then 
that  he  raised  up  and  gave  a  great  cry  of  anguish, 
and  fell  to  the  floor. 

He  was  Bow-Wow  again  when  Burke  brought 
him  to,  and  he  had  forgotten  the  fragments  which 
John  Doe  had  remembered;  but,  later,  he  sat  up 
at  his  lonely  dinner  like  John  Doe.  Afterwards, 
in  the  lounging-room,  with  his  coffee  and  one  of 
Billy's  cigars,  he  was  stronger  than  Burke  had  yet 
seen  him. 

''  Why  am  I  here?  "  he  unexpectedly  asked. 

"  I  couldn't  say,  sir,"  replied  Burke,  speculat- 
ing on  that  false  strength;  wondering  how  long  it 
would  continue.  "  Mr.  Lane  brought  you  home 
last  night,  and  told  me  to  take  care  of  you  until  he 
came  back." 


56  THE  ENEMY 

"Who  is  Mr.  Lane?" 

"  An  engineering  architect,  sir.  He  makes  a 
speciality  of  large  structural  work.  He's  quite  a 
young  man;  and  fine!  You'll  see  him  this  even- 
ing, I  hope." 

John  Doe  nodded  his  head,  and  gazed  through 
the  window  at  the  long  perspective  of  lights.  Out 
there  was  the  world,  an  unpleasant  world.  He 
preferred  infinitely  to  be  here.  He  had  Mike 
Dowd's  Sink  in  his  memory,  but  that  seemed  a 
long  way  off,  and  incredible.  He  wandered  once 
to  the  door  of  the  library  and  looked  in,  but  he 
shook  his  head  and  came  away.  That  room  was 
full  of  wearisome  problems,  problems  which  he 
meant  to  solve;  but  just  now  he  would  wait.  He 
must  have  more  strength. 

Burke  had  quietly  left  the  room.  He  was  in- 
tensely worried  by  this  time.  Billy  had  been  gone 
over  twenty-four  hours!  He  brought  in  a  glass 
of  whisky. 

"  I'll  just  set  this  on  the  table,  sir,"  he  re- 
marked. "  You  may  want  it  by  and  by,"  and  he 
placed  beside  it  a  siphon  of  seltzer  and  a  glass. 

John  Doe  reached  forward  mechanically,  but, 
midway  of  the  movement,  he  stopped  and  let  his 
hand  rest  on  the  table.  He  looked  at  the  whisky 
long  and  hard,  and  drew  his  hand  away.  There 


THE  ENEMY  57 

was  his  enemy!  He  had  always  known  that,  but 
he  could  not  remember  the  time  when  he  had  of- 
fered any  resistance  to  it.  That  was  the  thing 
which  had  raised  a  veil  of  sodden  vapor  between 
him  and  all  the  good  things  which  he  now  strove 
to  recall.  No  foe  lurking  in  grass,  knife  between 
teeth,  could  be  more  vicious  than  this ;  no  noxious 
snake  could  be  more  deadly;  and  yet  there  grew 
up  in  him  a  sudden  wild  craving  for  it !  It  seemed 
a  thing  of  life,  as  it  gleamed  there  yellow  in  its 
glass ;  it  seemed  to  taunt  and  mock  him ;  it  seemed 
to  boast  that,  within  a  few  minutes,  its  deadening 
fumes  would  be  seeping  upward  into  his  brain,  and 
obliterating  again  all  those  dimly  incised  lines 
which  he  was  now  striving  so  hard  to  decipher! 
What  was  it  that  he  had  remembered  just  before 
dinner?  Unconsciously,  as  he  concentrated,  he 
reached  out  for  the  glass  of  whisky.  His  fingers 
touched  the  cold  surface,  and  he  hastily  drew  back 
his  hand. 

God!  He  must  have  it!  There  was  a  devil 
in  him  that  cried  out  for  it.  There  was  not  a 
fiber  in  him  which  did  not  crave  it!  It  was  life! 
Suddenly,  with  an  inarticulate  gasp,  he  clutched  the 
glass!  He  was  trembling  in  every  nerve  as  he 
raised  it  towards  his  lips. 

At  that  moment  the  door  opened,  and  there 


58  THE  ENEMY 

walked  in  Tommy  Tinkle,  half  supporting  and  half 
dragging  Billy  Lane.  Tommy,  with  his  silk  hat 
on  the  back  of  his  head  and  that  perpetual  grin  on 
his  lips,  helped  his  friend  into  a  chair,  where  Billy 
sprawled,  his  arms  dangling  and  his  chin  on  his 
breast.  His  mouth  was  half  open,  and  he  was 
breathing  heavily. 

Tommy  bowed  gravely  to  the  stranger,  who  still 
stood  with  his  glass  in  his  hand. 

"  The  same  to  you  and  many  of  'em,"  he  ob- 
served cheerfully.  "  Drink  hearty  and  have  an- 
other." 

Burke  came  running  in,  and,  paying  no  atten- 
tion to  either  Tommy  or  John  Doe,  stooped  and 
began  taking  off  Billy's  shoes. 

"  Whisky  again,  sir,"  he  said,  looking  up  at 
Tommy  reproachfully. 

There  was  a  sudden  crash  of  glass,  and  the 
sudden  upleaping  of  flame.  John  Doe  had  thrown 
his  whisky  in  the  fireplace. 


CHAPTER  VI 

A    FAMILY   AFFAIR 

GERALDINE  BENNING  was  furious  — 
and  something  more !  At  dinner  her  eyes 
were  red. 

"  I  am  tremendously  disappointed  in  Billy,"  ob- 
served the  plump  and  placid  Mrs.  Benning.  Her 
round,  smooth  face  was  as  clear  of  texture  as 
Geraldine's,  and  her  eyes  were  as  large.  "  He  has 
always  been  such  a  nice  boy." 

"  He  never  could  have  been  nice !  "  snapped 
Geraldine.  "He  only  seemed  nicel  If  he  had 
been,  he  couldn't  have  done  what  he  did!  " 

"  That  sounds  true,  Geraldine,  but  it  isn't  quite," 
judged  her  father.  "  Of  course  it  was  an  unpar- 
donable thing  to  do  —  but " 

"But  he  did  it!"  interrupted  Geraldine  sav- 
agely. 

Her  father  thoughtfully  poured  himself  a  glass 
of  wine.  He  was  a  pink-faced  man,  and  the  very 
personification  of  good  nature ;  but  thoughtfulness 

59 


6o  THE  ENEMY 

became  him.     He  was  so  conscientious  about  it. 

"  I'm  worried  over  Billy,"  he  resumed.  "  He 
seems  to  have  gradually  increased  his  drinking,  and 
he's  not  the  right  temperament  for  it.  That  was 
why  I  wanted  to  keep  him  here  this  morning.  You 
made  a  mistake,  Geraldine." 

"  Billy  and  Tommy  should  have  respected  Ger- 
aldine enough  not  to  have  come,  in  their  condi- 
tion," remarked  Mrs.  Benning,  and  her  eyelids  be- 
gan to  redden.  It  gave  her  a  trace  of  glitter.  "  I 
am  no  friend  to  whisky." 

Three-B  Benning's  neck  crimsoned.  He  took 
his  three  nips  a  day,  and  it  seemed  to  agree  with 
him.  He  had  never  in  his  life  been  intoxi- 
cated. 

"  You  are  right,  my  dear,"  acknowledged  the 
head  of  the  house,  passing  hastily  from  that  sug- 
gested topic.  "  The  boys  should  not  have  come 
here  in  their  condition,  but  they  did  not  realize 
that  they  were  in  that  condition,  and  I  know,  and 
you  know,  and  Geraldine  knows,  that  they  posi- 
tively meant  no  disrespect  to  her."  Geraldine  in- 
terrupted with  a  sniff,  but  her  father  went  straight 
on,  in  spite  of  all  his  uncomfortable  experiences. 
"  They  only  meant  to  give  Geraldine  a  pleasant 
morning  ride.  I  saw  them  myself.  When  they 
came  they  were  in  a  happy  mood." 


THE  ENEMY  61 

"  I  suppose  you  think  I  should  have  gone  with 
them !  "  Geraldine's  cheeks  were  blazing. 

"  Intoxicated  as  they  were !  "  supplemented 
Mrs.  Benning,  fanning  herself  violently. 

"  Certainly  not !  "  and  Three-B  Benning's  voice 
lowered  one  degree  toward  his  best  bass  range. 
He  felt  that  he  was  being  put  wrong,  and  he  held 
himself  in.  "  I  would  have  been  the  first  to  forbid 
Geraldine's  taking  that  ride.  However,  as  I  said 
before,  the  boys  were  in  a  happy  mood.  I  asked 
them  to  breakfast  with  me.  I  could  have  handled 
them,  and  sent  Billy  to  his  very  important  work." 

"  He  should  have  remembered  that  himself !  " 

"  Geraldine  had  a  good  natured  man  to  deal 
with.  She  antagonized  him  with  a  flare  of  temper, 
and  made  him  stubborn.  She  advised  him  to  go 
get  as  drunk  as  he  could.  And  he  did  it." 

'  Why,  you're  actually  blaming  me  for  the  whole 
disgraceful  thing!  "  Geraldine's  indignation  was 
almost  hysterical. 

"Why,  Puss!"  remonstrated  her  father, 
shocked,  and  his  tone  was  all  tenderness.  "  You 
know  better  than  that.  You  are  young,  and  inex- 
perienced in  everything  relating  to  the  world's 
greatest  tragedy.  If  Billy  were  not  so  well  worth 
saving,  I  would  not  be  so  serious  about  our  re- 
sponsibility of  this  morning.  Billy  has  too  bril- 


62  THE  ENEMY 

liant  a  future  to  throw  away.     He's  a  fine  boy. 
He  has  almost  grown  up  in  this  house.     He  is  like 


a  son  to  me." 


"  I  think  a  wife  might  keep  Billy  straight." 
This  sage  observation  came  from  Mrs.  Benning, 
who  gave  herself  great  credit  that  Three  B.  had 
become  the  nice  man  he  was. 

"  It  is  a  dangerous  thing  for  any  girl  to  try," 
said  Benning,  shaking  his  head  thoughtfully  and 
sipping  at  his  wine. 

Geraldine  compressed  her  red  lips. 

"  If  she  were  severe  enough  with  him,  he  could 
soon  be  controlled,"  she  declared  with  wise  specula- 
tion; and  then  her  father  laughed  at  her.  To  his 
profound  astonishment,  she  jumped  from  her  chair 
and  hurried  to  her  room,  with  her  handkerchief 
to  her  eyes.  She  retired  early  that  night,  but  she 
went  to  sleep  late.  Had  she  been  in  any  degree 
to  blame  for  Billy's  conduct  between  his  two  visits? 
And  why  hadn't  Tommy  come  back?  Somehow, 
no  one  had  worried  about  Tommy.  There  had 
not  seemed  to  be  an  impression  that  Tommy  was  in 
any  danger. 

By  morning  Geraldine  had  settled  into  cold  an- 
ger. At  ten  o'clock  there  came  a  box  of  gorgeous 
American  Beauties.  She  knew  that,  since  they 
were  from  Billy's  florist,  they  must  be  from  Billy ; 


THE  ENEMY  63 

but  she  opened  them  to  make  sure.  Stunning  roses 
they  were,  each  one  perfect,  sweet,  and  it  seemed  a 
shame  that  their  beauty  should  be  connected  with 
such  thoughts  as  she  now  associated  with  Billy. 
She  buried  her  face  among  the  cool  leaves  and  in- 
haled their  wonderful  fragrance.  Because  she  was 
angry  with  Billy  was  no  reason  she  should  not  do 
this.  The  flowers  couldn't  help  it.  Carefully  she 
tied  up  the  box  again,  with  her  own  hands,  and  sent 
the  roses  back!  There  had  been  a  note,  an  apol- 
ogy, no  doubt ;  but  there  are  some  things  for  which 
no  apologies  can  make  amends ! 

Tommy's  flowers  came  by  and  by.  She  sent 
them  back  unopened.  She  loved  flowers ! 

At  one  o'clock  there  arrived  a  package  of  her 
favorite  candy;  but  she  returned  that  without  a 
qualm.  The  candy  was  not  alive  like  the  roses. 

She  had  intended  to  go  out  that  afternoon, 
but  she  changed  her  mind.  She  might  as  well 
settle  this  once  for  all.  She  went  up  to  her  room 
and  selected  her  prettiest  tea-gown,  the  one  with 
the  pale  blue  fur,  and  in  her  golden  brown  hair 
she  wound  a  string  of  turquoise  beads.  Sorrow 
had  not  yet  dimmed  her  eyes  nor  faded  the  bloom 
in  her  cheeks. 

At  three  o'clock  Billy  came;  and  that  was  the 
moment  of  her  deadliest  disdain.  She  was  not  at 


64  THE  ENEMY 

home  I  When  Billy  looked  up  at  her  boudoir  win- 
dow she  was  sitting  there  calmly  reading,  and,  most 
subtle  touch  of  all,  by  her  side  stood  a  vase  of 
great,  flaming  American  Beauties ! 

There  were  six  telephone  calls  for  her  between 
that  and  eight  o'clock,  but  she  answered  none  of 
them.  She  was  distinctly  and  decidedly  not  at 
home!  Nor  was  she  at  home  when  Tommy 
Tinkle  called  at  eight-fifteen. 

Another  morning.  She  was  coldly  indifferent 
now.  She  had  buried  the  past,  and  looked  for- 
ward to  a  new  life;  a  Billyless  and  Tommyless  life, 
and  consequently  a  serene  one.  Both  letters  she 
had  re-enclosed,  unopened,  of  course;  but,  other 
than  that,  the  boys  were  entirely  out  of  her  mind. 

Again  she  remained  at  home  in  the  afternoon, 
but  if  she  had  expected  to  be  annoyed  by  further 
pursuit,  she  was  mistaken,  for  no  one  called,  ex- 
cept Count  Tommassio  Tinklario,  who  came  with 
a  letter  of  introduction  from  Nellie  Sayers,  then  in 
Washington. 

Excited  and  wondering,  Geraldine  dressed  her- 
self in  her  new  white  velvet  with  the  quaint  ermine 
collar  and  sash,  and,  fair  and  warmly  tinted,  went 
down  to  receive  the  Italian  nobleman. 

He  wore  the  correct  black  mustache,  and  was 
standing  by  the  window  when  she  entered  the  recep- 


THE  ENEMY  65 

tion  parlor.  He  was  a  rather  squarely  built  gentle- 
man, even  in  his  trimly  fitted  cutaway.  As  she  ad- 
vanced to  meet  him,  he  came  swiftly  over  to  her 
with  both  hands  outstretched,  and  said : 

"  Hello,  Geraldine." 

Thereupon  the  Italian  nobleman  removed  his 
black  mustache  with  a  flourish,  and  grinned  in  de- 
light. 

"Tommy  Tinkle!"  gasped  Geraldine.  "  Of 
all  the  idiotic  .  .  ." 

She  suddenly  remembered  that  part  of  her  furi- 
ous anger  with  Billy  was  directed  at  Tommy. 
"  This  is  unpardonable,"  she  coldly  told  him,  and 
turning,  she  sailed  majestically  for  the  door. 

"  No  you  don't!  "  laughed  Tommy,  and  inter- 
cepted her.  '  You  don't  know  what  a  dickens  of  a 
time  I've  had  to  break  in  here.  I  had  to  stand 
over  the  engraver  to  get  just  that  single  card;  and 
I  tore  up  a  dozen  letters  before  I  could  write  one 
which  looked  enough  like  sister  Nellie's.  Say, 
what  do  you  think  of  the  mustache  ?  Look !  "  and 
he  put  it  on  upside  down.  "  Doesn't  make  much 
difference  how  you  wear  it,  you  know.  It's  almost 
the  same  either  way,"  and  he  changed  it,  to  show 
her. 

Of  course  she  laughed;  but  that  did  not  mean 
that  she  had  lessened  her  anger.  It  only  made  the 


66  THE  ENEMY 

earnestness  of  her  determination  more  difficult  to 
display.  She  started  to  sweep  past  him;  but 
shucks !  he  went  with  her ;  even  took  her  arm,  in 
fact. 

"  I  don't  blame  you  for  never  speaking  to  Billy 
again,"  he  cheerfully  informed  her;  "  but  you  can't 
hold  anything  against  me,  because  I  apologize." 

"  It's  just  like  one  of  your  ghastly  practical  jokes 
to  have  sent  Billy  back  here  that  night!  "  she  hotly 
charged  him,  and  she  did  not  see  the  little  twitch 
in  Tommy's  humorous  countenance.  "  It  was  all 
your  fault !  Billy  is  always  with  you  when  things 
happen!  You  have  a  bad  influence  on  him!  " 

'  Then  why  do  you  blame  Billy?  "  triumphantly 
argued  Tommy,  and  he  grinned.  "  Poor  Billy's 
all  broke  up  about  it,  Geraldine." 

"It  serves  him  right!"  she  retorted.  "He 
should  be!" 

"  Well,  it  wasn't  really  his  fault,"  Tommy  told 
her,  and  led  her  towards  the  library.  "  I  thought 
it  would  be  a  great  joke,  but  nobody  else  seemed  to 
have  any  sense  of  humor." 

"  It's  no  credit  to  Billy  that  he's  weak  enough 
to  let  you  lead  him  into  mischief !  " 

"  I  give  up !  "  announced  Tommy  despondently. 
"  I  came  to  do  my  best  for  Billy,  but  I  see  it's  no 
use !  I'll  tell  him  we're  not  to  be  forgiven,  and  we 


THE  ENEMY  67 

are  not  to  bother  you  again !  "  He  was  very  sor- 
rowful as  they  turned  in  at  the  library  door.  "  I 
will  not  even  bother  you  again  with  Billy's  apolo- 
gies! "  They  rounded  the  corner  of  the  palm 
screen.  "  Why,  hello,  Billy !  What  are  you  do- 
ing here?  " 

There  he  stood,  right  in  front  of  her,  tall  and 
straight  and  handsome,  but  red  with  shame.  He 
tried  to  say  something,  but  humiliation  tied  his 
tongue,  and  Geraldine,  without  knowing  just  why, 
held  out  her  hands  to  him.  He  took  them  both, 
and  down  into  her  brown  eyes  gazed  all  his  contrite 
apologies. 

Good  old  Tommy  Tinkle ! 


CHAPTER  VII 

IT   IS   NOT   GOOD   TO    FORGET 

JEAN !  Tavy !  Those  were  the  two  words 
which  were  oftenest  upon  the  lips  of  John 
Doe,  in  the  long  days  of  delirium  following 
his  sudden  stoppage  of  the  poison  with  which,  for 
years,  he  had  drenched  himself;  and  those  were  the 
two  words  which  remained  with  him  after  the  days 
of  delirium  were  past.  However,  when  he  had 
come  to  full  consciousness,  those  words  were  never 
on  his  tongue.  He  merely  lay  for  silent  hours, 
and  thought  about  them;  and  with  each  day  of 
thought  the  sadness  grew  deeper  upon  his  counte- 
nance. 

Not  that  he  dwelt  upon  this  alone.  There  were 
many  other  things  to  occupy  his  mind,  by  turns.  In 
his  desperate  illness  he  had  come  up  through  a  long, 
dark  tunnel,  but  there  had  been  light  at  the  end; 
and  he  had  reached  the  light!  He  understood 
now,  for  example,  the  exact  meaning  of  those 
queerly  angling  lines  on  Billy's  drawing  board,  and 
when,  weak  and  emaciated,  he  rose  from  his  bed  in 
the  blue  room,  supported  on  the  strong  arm  of 

68 


THE  ENEMY  69 

Burke,  his  first  journey  was  to  that  board.  He 
spread  his  arms  over  it,  as  if  it  were  a  thing  of  life 
that  he  loved,  and  he  bent  down  his  head.  When 
he  raised,  his  eyes  were  moist.  The  bleariness  had 
gone  from  them  now.  They  were  clear,  and  dark 
gray,  and  there  was  a  dignity  in  them  which  had 
grown  as  his  sadness  had  grown. 

Billy,  bounding  in  from  his  work,  at  dinner-time, 
found  Doe  at  the  drawing-board  engaged  in  con- 
templative study. 

'  Well,  well !  "  exclaimed  the  young  man  in  de- 
light. "  Burke  told  me  you'd  be  up  to-day,  but  I 
didn't  expect  to  find  you  working." 

"  I  don't  believe  I  can  stay  away  from  it  for 
long,"  returned  Doe  with  a  smile.  His  lips  had 
begun  to  have  form.  "  How  are  you  coming  on 
with  the  Pannard  foundation?"  This  had  been 
his  first  question  every  night  during  his  convales- 
cence. 

"  Great !  "  Billy  picked  up  a  decanter  from  the 
library  table  and  poured  himself  a  drink.  "  We 
are  through  with  the  test  borings,  and  have  discov- 
ered that  your  diagnosis  was  correct  to  the  most 
minute  detail." 

Doe  tapped  on  the  drawing-board  with  his  pen- 
cil, sliding  it  through  and  through  his  fingers;  point, 
heel;  point,  heel. 


70  THE  ENEMY 

"  Billy,  I  don't  care  much  for  the  truss  you  are 
using  over  this  assembly  room,"  and  he  turned  with 
concern  to  the  drawing. 

"  It's  the  best  type  known  for  the  purpose," 
stated  Billy,  edging  up  to  the  board  and  studying 
the  drawing  critically.  "  As  you  see,  I  have  not 
much  height  to  spare,  and  there  is  no  construction 
for  spanning  a  wide  space  so  good  as  the  Stuart 
truss." 

John  Doe  stopped  for  only  a  second  in  the  twirl- 
ing of  his  pencil,  and  in  that  second  his  lips  com- 
pressed; then  he  went  on  sliding  his  fingers  down 
over  the  pencil  and  turning  it;  point,  heel;  point, 
heel. 

"  The  Stuart  truss,"  he  repeated,  and  then  he 
was  quiet  for  a  moment  longer.  He  roused  him- 
self with  a  slight  jerk  of  his  head  and  shoulders. 
"  That  truss  was  designed  for  a  specific  purpose, 
but  it  was  not  intended  to  cover  cases  where  the  sup- 
port for  the  thrust  required  such  heavy  construc- 
tion. Look  here."  He  drew  a  sketch-pad  toward 
him,  and  made  a  few  swift  strokes  with  his  pencil. 
"  Don't  you  think  that  this  principle,  with  some 
modification  perhaps,  will  suit  your  needs  better?  " 

Billy  took  the  sketch,  and,  as  he  studied  it,  his 
eyes  sparkled,  and  then  narrowed.  He  laid  down 
the  paper  without  comment,  and  went  to  the  win- 


THE  ENEMY  71 

dow,  looking  out  at  the  sky  above  the  adjoining 
buildings.  Suddenly  he  wheeled.  "  Mr.  Doe, 
what  are  your  future  plans?  " 

Doe  smiled. 

"  I  have  none.  How  could  I  have?  Remem- 
ber, I  am  just  born." 

"Welcome  to  the  world!"  laughed  Billy. 
"  How  would  you  like  to  come  in  with  me?  " 

The  tears  sprang  into  the  older  man's  eyes. 

"  You  don't  know  me,"  he  reminded  Billy. 

"  You're  John  Doe.  Whatever  or  whomever 
you  may  have  been  before  I  named  you,  is  no  con- 
cern of  mine.  I  know  this  much.  You  can  help 
me.  I'm  a  good,  solid  plugger,  but  I  am  brilliant 
enough  to  realize  that  I  haven't  creative  genius. 
You  have.  I  need  it  in  my  business."  He  turned 
to  the  sketch  again. 

John  Doe  was  silent,  though  he  tried  to  speak. 
He  held  out  his  hand  instead. 

"  Then  it's  agreed !  "  declared  Billy,  looking 
hastily  away  from  the  man's  eyes;  but  he  shook 
hands  heartily.  "  From  now  on,  it's  John  and 
Billy." 

Burke  appeared  in  the  doorway  and  smiled 
broadly  at  the  tableau. 

"  Shall  you  dress  for  dinner,  sir?  "  he  inquired. 

"  It  depends   on  John,"   returned  Billy.     "  If 


72  THE  ENEMY 

he's  going  back  to  bed  I  think  I'll  make  a  quick 
ceremony  of  it,  and  sit  with  him  a  while." 

"  I  should  prefer  to  dress,"  considered  John. 
"  I've  been  in  bed  so  long." 

At  dinner  there  was  another  change  in  Lane's 
attitude  toward  the  man  who  had  been  Bow-Wow ; 
and  the  change  was  like  Burke's  had  been.  So  far 
he  had  only  seen  him  in  the  frowsy  habiliments  of 
a  tramp,  and  in  robe  and  slippers.  He  was  a  dif- 
ferent person  in  formal  garb,  and  once  more  Billy 
pondered  curiously  on  the  man's  past.  He  had 
been  a  gentleman,  at  least.  That  much  was  cer- 
tain. How  had  he  fallen  so  low?  And  by  what 
strange  fate  had  Billy  found  him?  And  where 
was  it  all  to  lead?  To  bigger  business! 

The  kindliness  of  the  young  architect  came  out 
at  dinner.  He  had  discovered  that  too  long  an 
effort  at  concentration  both  wearied  and  confused 
Doe,  who  was  not  yet  quite  clear;  so  Billy  chatted 
away  about  everything  under  the  sun.  Over  their 
coffee  and  cigars  in  the  lounging-room,  he  returned 
to  business.  For  the  time  being  he  left  the  dis- 
cussion of  terms  in  the  background,  but  he  laid  be- 
fore Doe  all  his  plans  and  projects  and  prospects; 
and  the  older  man  listened  with  grave  attention. 

Suddenly,  however,   in  the  very  midst  of  this 


THE  ENEMY  73 

quiet  talk,  Doe  stood  up  and  stretched  forth  his 
clenched  fists. 

"  Billy !  "  There  was  in  his  voice  that  anguish 
which,  in  the  cries  of  men  or  beasts,  has  started 
the  springs  of  sympathy  since  the  world  began. 
"  My  wife !  My  little  girl !  I  want  them !  " 
His  features  were  working  convulsively,  and  Lane 
sprang  to  his  side,  in  fear  that  he  might  fall. 
Doe  shook  his  head.  He  was  strong  enough  now. 
He  had  new  strength.  He  forced  himself  to  sit 
down.  "  I  want  you  to  find  them  for  me.  I 
haven't  seen  them  for  fifteen  years.  My  little 
Tavy  should  be  a  young  woman."  He  paused 
a  moment  while  he  tried  to  picture  her.  "  And 
Jean  —  is  she  living  or  dead?  I  must  know !  It 
is  a  torture  to  me  through  every  hour  of  the  long 
nights  1  " 

"  We'll  find  them  for  you."  Billy  tried  to  speak 
with  his  usual  hearty  assurance,  but  there  was  a 
curious  break  in  his  voice,  and  he  felt  a  queer 
numbness  in  his  cheeks.  This  was  the  first  time 
he  had  been  quite  near  to  any  big  emotion,  and  all 
life,  in  that  moment,  seemed  to  be  full  of  the  im- 
minence of  unexpected  misery.  "  Where  did  you 
leave  them?  " 

"  In  Willowwood,  but  they  moved  away  from 


74  THE  ENEMY 

there  shortly  after  I  disappeared.  That  was  while 
I  still  remembered  things.  Afterwards,  I  —  I  for- 
got. It  was  hard  work  at  first ;  but  I  forgot." 

The  young  man  gazed  steadily  into  the  fire. 
He  was  listening  intently,  but  he  felt  that  he  must 
not  interrupt.  There  was  a  short  silence,  in  which 
John  Doe  struggled  with  himself.  Humiliation, 
had  been  a  possibility  long  absent  from  Bow-Wow, 
but  it  had  come  back  as  a  benign  gift  to  John 
Doe. 

"  I  had  an  enemy,  Billy,"  he  finally  said,  and  he 
glanced  toward  the  decanter.  "  It  —  it  got  me! 
I  neglected  my  business.  I  neglected  my  family. 
I  broke  promise  after  promise.  I  was  expelled 
from  my  clubs,  but,  through  it  all,  with  the  losses 
of  position,  money,  honor,  manhood,  self-respect, 
I  clung  to  one  thing  as  if  it  were  more  precious 
than  all  the  priceless  treasures  of  the  world; 
whisky !  I  made  a  god  of  it !  I  devoted  my  days 
and  nights  to  it ;  then  weeks,  then  months. 

"  One  day,  after  a  prolonged  spree,  I  had  a 
lucid  hour.  In  that  hour  I  converted  every  secur- 
ity I  had  into  cash,  and  banked  it  in  my  wife's 
name.  Then  I  sent  her  a  note  that  I  was  dead; 
and  I  died." 

There  was  a  long  silence. 

"  But  you  have  come  back  to  life,"  Billy  pres- 


THE  ENEMY  75 

ently  reminded  him,  returning  slowly  from  his  con- 
templation of  this  deep  tragedy. 

"  No,"  denied  the  low  voice  of  the  man  who  had 
come  back  from  Hades  with  silvered  hair  and 
emaciated  body  and  torn  heart;  "  John  Doe  came 
to  life,  thanks  to  your  goodness;  but  the  grave  still 
holds  Harrison  Stuart." 

"  My  God!  "  Billy  could  not  have  been  more 
astounded  if  the  tomb  had  suddenly  yawned  to  set 
this  man  before  him.  "  Not  the  Harrison  Stuart 
who  built  the  old  Palace  of  Commerce,  the  first 
important  structural  iron  edifice  in  America !  Not 
the  Harrison  Stuart,  of  *  Stuart  on  Trusses,' 
'  Stuart  on  Bridges,'  *  Stuart  on  Stresses  and 
Strains  ' !  Why,  man,  I've  used  those  authorities 
as  my  professional  ten  commandments !  "  Billy's 
eyes  were  glowing.  He  was  boyishly  excited.  He 
rose  and  paced  the  floor.  Suddenly  he  laughed. 
"  Why,  Mr.  Stuart,  on  the  very  night  I  met  you, 
Joe  Mullen  said  that  he  wished  Harrison  Stuart 
were  alive  I  And  I  was  touching  elbows  with  you 
at  the  time!  You  must  have  heard  it!  Is  that 
why  you  spoke  to  me  about  the  Pannard  founda- 
tion? " 

The  dean  of  the  engineering  architects  knotted 
his  brow  painfully. 

"  I  don't  know,"  he  pondered.     "  I  don't  re- 


76  THE  ENEMY 

member.  I  don't  think  so.  Oh,  I  wish  I  could 
forget  all  that  hideous  nightmare !  "  A  second 
later  he  brought  his  fist  down  on  the  arm  of  his 
chair.  "No!"  he  vehemently  declared.  "I 
must  not  forget !  It  is  not  good  for  a  man  to  for- 
get anything  that  he  has  done !  He  needs  it  for 
the  correction  of  his  heart  and  for  the  life  of  his 
very  soul !  I  wish  never  again  to  forget." 

"  And,  by  George,  I'm  to  have  Harrison  Stuart 
for  a  partner!  "  Billy,  walking  the  floor,  could 
not  free  his  mind  from  the  marvelous  fact. 
u  Stuart,  the  first  thing  to  do  is  to  locate  your  fam- 
ily. If  you  left  them  fairly  well-to-do,  they  should 
be  easily  traced,  and  we'll  not  attempt  to  do  any- 
thing in  a  business  way  until  you  have  been  re- 
united with  them." 

"  No !  "  The  explosive  refusal  was  wrung 
from  Harrison  Stuart  as  if  it  had  brought  a  piece 
of  his  heart  with  it.  "  I  don't  dare !  I  can  only 
hope  to  know  that  they  are  safe!  So  long  as  I 
must  look  on  that  decanter  with  fear,  I  must  remain 
John  Doe ;  to  them,  to  you,  to  the  world  —  to  my- 
self!" 


CHAPTER  VIII 

BILLY   AND  THE   IMPS 

THREE  blocks  from  the  Bowery,  three 
blocks  from  the  corner  of  Mike  Dowd's 
Sink,  and  quite  visible  through  the  narrow 
slit  of  the  alley,  is  Vanheuster  Square,  where  once 
the  stolid  burghers  sat,  of  pleasant  evenings,  and 
smoked  their  long  clay  pipes,  and  commented  in 
wide-mouthed  gruffness  on  the  invasion  of  the  ver- 
dampt  English,  who  had  come  to  disturb  the  peace 
and  order  of  New  Amsterdam.  There  still  re- 
main portions  of  the  squat  little  foundation  and  of 
two  of  the  stone  benches  which  were  once  the  mu- 
nicipal glory  of  that  old  Dutch  town;  and  the  sur- 
face of  the  ground,  in  one  corner,  is  still  ridged  and 
hard  from  the  roots  of  the  sturdy  elm  which  once 
reared  its  branches  above  the  tops  of  the  highest 
buildings  in  old  New  York. 

Traces  of  its  staid  old  respectability  still  linger 
in  Vanheuster  Square,  as  if  the  spirit  of  old  Dynk 
Vanheuster  still  hovered  austerely  over  it,  to  pro- 
tect it  from  the  squalor  of  all  those  strange  black- 

77 


7  8  THE  ENEMY 

eyed  aliens  who  surround  it  on  every  side.  Here 
the  old  tenements,  though  sunk  in  poverty,  stand 
stiff  and  prim,  as  if  they  had  defied  time  and  decay ; 
here  there  are  green  shutters  to  all  the  windows, 
and  hard  little  flights  of  stone  steps  lead  down  from 
every  door;  here  the  children  after  school  wear 
clean  white  waists  or  clean  white  pinafores,  as  they 
play  in  the  graveled  square,  which,  with  its  four 
clumps  of  starved  grass,  is  their  substitute  for  the 
country;  and  here  Billy  Lane's  search  led  him, 
after  busy  days  among  the  false  Stuarts  of  the  tele- 
phone book  and  the  city  directory  and  the  tax  rec- 
ords. The  police  department,  applied  to  with 
some  misgiving,  had  been  Billy's  last  resort,  and 
that  inquiry  had  sifted  down,  after  some  fruitless 
calls,  to  Officer  Dillon,  big  and  pigeon-chested  and 
puff-cheeked,  who  knew  vaguely  of  a  Mrs.  Harri- 
son Stuart  on  his  beat. 

At  the  primmest  and  stiffest  of  the  Vanheuster 
Square  tenements,  the  house  with  the  greenest 
shutters  and  the  hardest  stone  steps,  Billy  Lane 
stopped,  on  an  afternoon  when  the  air  was  soft 
and  the  sun  shone  brightly,  and  one  optimistic 
robin  sat  on  the  stunted  fir  tree,  shivering,  but 
trying  to  pretend  that  it  was  Spring. 

There  were  no  electric  bells  or  speaking  tubes  in 
this  dark,  narrow  hall.  Those  things  are  not  for 


THE  ENEMY  79 

the  poor.  One  simply  climbed  the  deeply  worn 
steps  of  the  wooden  stairs,  flight  after  flight,  until 
one  found  the  right  door;  and  it  was  by  this  process 
that  Billy  Lane  located  the  apartments  of  Mrs. 
Harrison  Stuart.  He  knocked,  and  presently  the 
door  was  opened.  For  an  instant,  the  usually  self- 
possessed  Billy  was  startled  into  tongue-tied 
awkwardness.  There  stood  before  him  the  most 
beautiful  girl  he  had  ever  seen ! 

She  was  small  and  slight,  and  exquisitely  molded. 
But  it  was  her  face  which  held  his  gaze,  even  to  the 
point  of  unconscious  rudeness.  Her  oval  cheeks 
were  pale,  but  her  skin  was  of  a  glorious  transpar- 
ency, and  beneath  its  surface  was  a  warm  tint  so 
delicate  that  it  was  like  the  faint  trace  of  pink  in 
the  heart  of  a  white  rose.  Upon  her  head  was  a 
wealth  of  raven  black  hair,  which  rippled  and 
waved  and  curled  as  if  it  possessed  an  independent 
will  of  its  own.  It  was  bound,  just  now,  with  a 
shell-pink  ribbon,  but  wherever  a  curl  had  a  way- 
ward notion,  it  had  shot  itself  loose,  to  cast  its  lus- 
trous ringlets  about  that  perfect  face.  It  was  the 
eyes,  however,  which  caught  and  held  Billy,  spell- 
bound !  They  were  large,  luminous  —  and  what 
color?  Dark  gray?  Brown?  No;  violet!  Or 
were  they  a  deep,  evasive  blue? 

The  girl  smiled  at  his  hesitation,  and,  as  her 


8o  THE  ENEMY 

delicately  chiselled  lips  curved,  those  remarkable 
eyes  sparkled,  and  a  certain  trace  of  impishness 
seemed  to  flit,  for  a  moment,  upon  her  counte- 
nance. Even  the  daintily  formed  nose  and  the 
piquant  chin  and  the  broad,  smooth  forehead 
seemed  to  share  in  the  flash  of  merriment,  and  the 
countless  wayward  curls  of  jet  fairly  twinkled. 

"  Tavy !  "  called  a  voice  from  within  an  adjoin- 
ing room. 

"  Yes,  mother."  The  voice  on  those  syllables 
was  of  wonderfully  sweet  modulation.  "  I  am  at 
the  door." 

"  Oh."     The  inner  voice  was  nearer. 

"  Is  —  does  Mrs.  Harrison  Stuart  live  here?  " 
stammered  Billy,  feeling  remarkably  big  and 
clumsy. 

Still  a  twinkle  in  the  big  eyes.  They  were 
violet ! 

"  Yes." 

"  May  I  ask  if  it  is  the  Mrs.  Harrison  Stuart 
whose  husband  was  the  famous  engineering  archi- 
tect? " 

'  Yes."  The  twinkle  had  gone  from  the  lumi- 
nous eyes.  They  were  regarding  him  steadily. 
They  were  dark  gray! 

A  second  figure  came  to  the  door  and  appeared 
beside  the  girl.  It  was  a  woman  in  whose  face 


THE  ENEMY  81 

was  that  sweetness  which  can  only  come  through 
bravely  endured  suffering.  She  said  nothing. 
She  only  looked  at  the  caller  eagerly,  and  there 
seemed  a  half  hope,  a  half  fear  in  her.  She 
seemed  almost  to  tremble. 

"  Thank  you.  May  I  come  in  and  talk  with 
you?"  This  to  the  gray-haired  woman;  and  it 
was  she  who  opened  the  door  wider  for  him  to 
enter. 

Billy  Lane  took  a  hasty  survey  of  the  room 
as  he  stepped  in.  It  was  large,  a  grace  which  it 
owed  to  its  age ;  and  it  was  very  simply  furnished, 
though  there  were  such  evidences  of  neatness  and 
dainty  cleanliness,  and  of  such  homelike  occupancy, 
that  it  seemed  a  very  comfortable  room  indeed. 
There  were  three  incongruities,  however.  In  one 
corner  was  a  mahogany  drawing-case,  exquisitely 
carved  and  with  gold  knobs  to  the  drawers. 
There  was  a  gold  inscription  plate  on  it,  showing 
that  it  had  been  some  stately  gift;  and  its  cost 
would  have  bought,  many  times  over,  the  entire 
poor  furnishings  of  Mrs.  Harrison  Stuart's  three- 
room  apartment.  On  the  mantel,  amid  such  mod- 
est bric-a-brac  as  people  in  most  humble  circum- 
stances might  afford,  stood  a  richly  chased  gold 
frame,  in  which  was  the  portrait  of  a  man  in  his 
prime,  a  man  with  a  strong,  forceful  face  and  dark 


82  THE  ENEMY 

gray  eyes.  Could  John  Doe  have  looked  like  that 
—  or  could  Bow-Wow ! 

The  other  incongruity  was  a  long  table  over  by 
the  windows,  on  which  was  a  small  embroidery 
loom,  a  tray  filled  with  many  little  compartments 
full  of  assorted  beads,  a  water-color  box  surrounded 
by  half-painted  place  cards  set  up  to  dry,  and  a 
perfect  kaleidoscope  of  bright  colored  bits  of  silk. 
On  the  table,  too,  were  several  fantastic  dolls,  all 
of  them  in  the  same  queer  stage  of  semi-comple- 
tion; elaborate  court  costumes  from  the  waists 
down,  and  chiefly  stuffedness  and  baldheadedness 
from  the  waist  up.  Yet,  with  all  this  confusion 
of  purpose  and  means,  there  was  neatness  and 
dainty  cleanliness,  even  here. 

"Won't  you  sit  down?"  invited  Mrs.  Stuart, 
who  had  subjected  the  young  man  to  the  same 
rigid  inspection  he  had  given  their  work  table. 

Billy  felt  guilty  of  rudeness,  but  he  found  instant 
justification.  He  had  a  report  to  make,  and  he 
would  be  asked  an  infinity  of  questions  at  home. 
He  hoped  to  be  able  to  answer  some  of  the  most 
likely  ones. 

"  My  name  is  Billy  Lane,"  he  began,  conscious 
that  the  dark  gray  eyes  were  sparkling  with  the 
prim  formality  of  this  opening.  Or  were  they  vio- 
let now?  He  withheld  himself  from  looking.  "  I 


THE  ENEMY  83 

am  an  engineering  architect.  I  was  an  ardent 
student  of  your  husband's  books." 

"Yes?"  The  hands  of  Mrs.  Stuart  held  a 
piece  of  the  bright  colored  silk;  evidently  the 
jacket  of  one  of  the  fine  court  ladies  on  the  table; 
but  her  long,  thin  fingers  locked  through  the  silk 
as  she  bent  forward  eagerly. 

"  Mr.  Stuart  died  some  fifteen  years  ago,  I  be- 
lieve." 

There  was  an  instant  unlocking  of  the  long, 
thin  fingers,  and,  for  a  moment,  they  fluttered,  then 
re-locked,  and  a  light  leaped  into  the  patient  blue 
eyes. 

"  Yes."     Still  bent  eagerly  forward. 

Billy  felt  the  dark  gray  eyes  of  the  girl  studying 
him  seriously  now,  and  he  was  more  at  ease.  He 
even  glanced  at  them.  By  George,  they  were 
brown !  Or  was  that  the  reflection  from  the  pink 
dress?  It  was  a  neat  little  dress,  a  daintily 
checked  gingham,  plain  and  trim  fitting,  but  most 
advantageous  to  a  girl  with  such  an  exquisite  little 
figure,  and  such  a  glorious  complexion,  and  such 
waywardly  curly  black  hair,  and  such  wonderful 
eyes!  Where  was  he  in  the  conversation?  Oh. 

"  I  understand  that  Mr.  Stuart  left  the  uncom- 
pleted manuscript  of  a  work  on  roofs  and  towers." 

"  Yes."     The  light  of  never-dying  hope  faded 


84  THE  ENEMY 

once  more  from  the  patient  blue  eyes.  No  news 
of  him!  The  long,  thin  fingers  unlocked,  and 
took  up  the  tiny  silk  jacket. 

"  A  personal  need  for  authoritative  information 
on  that  subject  has  given  me  an  interest  in  this  mat- 
ter, and  it  had  occurred  to  me  that  Mr.  Stuart's 
manuscript  might  be  in  such  shape  as  to  make  its 
publication  possible.  It  should  be  of  considerable 
financial  value  to  you.  Also,  it  would  be  of  vast 
benefit  to  students  of  structural  iron  work.  Har- 
rison Stuart,"  and  here  he  included  both  mother 
and  daughter  in  his  genuine  enthusiasm,  "  was  so 
far  ahead  of  his  time  that  they  haven't  caught  up 
with  him  yet!  " 

A  bright  smile  rewarded  him  for  the  tribute. 
It  was  a  friendly  smile,  in  which  there  was  no  imp- 
ishness,  a  smile  of  delicately  curving  red  lips,  of 
pearly  teeth,  of  flashing  dimples,  of  twinkling  black 
curls,  of  large,  luminous  eyes;  dark  blue! 

"  I  scarcely  think  it  possible."  Mrs.  Stuart  ex- 
amined the  tiny  silk  jacket  critically.  There  was  a 
threaded  needle  sticking  in  it.  She  drew  out  the 
needle  and  took  a  stitch  or  two.  "  Mr.  Stuart's 
former  publishers,  shortly  after  his  death,"  a  slight 
hesitation  before  that  word,  "  examined  the  manu- 
script, and  they  pronounced  it  too  incomplete  for 
publication." 


THE  ENEMY  85 

"  I  had  an  impression  that  such  was  the  case, 
Mrs.  Stuart,"  Billy  went  on,  most  uncomfortably. 
He  felt,  somehow,  like  a  traitor,  in  the  presence 
of  these  women,  knowing  what  he  did.  He  had 
only  to  say  one  sentence  to  bring  such  happiness 
into  this  room  as  it  had  not  known  for  years! 
He  had  a  terrific  impulse  to  say  it,  an  impulse  so 
strong  that  it  frightened  him.  "  It  occurs  to  me, 
however,  that  we  might  have  some  competent  per- 
son complete  the  work,"  he  hastily  concluded. 

Mrs.  Stuart  sewed  up  the  rest  of  the  seam.  The 
girl  walked  over  and  looked  out  of  the  window. 
She  was  gazing  straight  down  towards  Mike 
Dowd's  Sink.  How  often  must  Bow-Wow  have 
passed  within  her  range  of  vision! 

"  It  is  impossible,"  decided  Mrs.  Stuart,  and  the 
girl  flashed  a  smile  at  her  mother,  a  fond  srnile 
this  one  was,  and  there  was  something  of  the 
mother's  patient  sweetness  in  it.  Of  what  a  va- 
riety of  moods  was  she  capable !  "  I  could  not 
permit  Mr.  Stuart's  name  to  be  appended  to  a 
work  which  could  not  be  wholly  his  own,"  went  on 
Mrs.  Stuart,  with  that  quiet  dignity  which  is  bred 
in  the  gentlewoman  with  her  soft  slurring  of  r's. 
She  relaxed  her  fingers  in  her  lap,  the  gay  little 
crimson  jacket  lying  among  them.  She  looked 
Billy  Lane  squarely  in  the  eye,  and  her  white 


86  THE  ENEMY 

cheeks  flushed,  as  she  modestly  added:  "Mr. 
Stuart  was  so  exact  an  authority  that  I  feel  it  my 
duty  to  protect  his  reputation." 

Ah!  That  much  he  had  left  her  at  any  rate, 
that  much  of  pride  in  him ! 

"Naturally,"  agreed  Billy  —  reviling  himself 
for  his  clumsiness.  The  girl  in  the  window  was 
standing  extremely  stiff  and  straight.  One  black 
curl  had  strayed  down  on  her  white  neck,  calling  in- 
sistent attention  to  that  beautiful,  smooth,  round 
column.  "  However,  Mrs.  Stuart,"  Billy  went  on, 
trying  to  remove  his  gaze  from  that  curl,  "  would 
it  not  be  possible  to  have  this  manuscript  completed 
and  edited  by  the  most  competent  person  to  be 
found,  and  published  under  another  name,  or 
anonymously?  The  financial  returns  to  you  would 
be  practically  the  same,  and  frankly,  I  believe  it 
to  be  your  duty  to  give  to  the  world  as  much  as 
you  can  of  the  technical  genius  of  Harrison  Stuart." 

That  was  a  new  phase !  Mrs.  Stuart  picked  up 
the  little  crimson  jacket  and  examined  it  thor- 
oughly, but  there  was  not  another  stitch  to  be  put 
in  it.  She  laid  it  down  again. 

"  I  don't  know,"  she  wavered. 

'  You  might  think  it  over,"  suggested  Billy. 
"  Here  is  my  card.  If  you  care  to  take  up  this 
proposition,  I  should  be  glad  to  have  you  let  me 


THE  ENEMY  87 

know.  Or,  may  I  call;  some  time  next  week, 
say?  "  In  spite  of  himself,  his  gaze,  as  he  said 
this,  roved  to  the  girl  in  the  window.  Again  she 
was  smiling  at  him,  and  this  time  there  was  an  imp 
in  every  elfin  curl. 


A1 


CHAPTER  IX 

CONSPIRACY 

"    A    LIVE!" 

"And  well!"  shouted  Billy. 

"  Thank  God !  "  He  knew  it  even 
before  Billy  had  spoken,  knew  it  before  he  had 
seen  Billy's  face,  knew  it  from  Billy's  tread  in  the 
hall  and  his  vigorous  throwing  open  of  the  door, 
knew  that  at  last  they  had  been  found,  that  they 
were  alive,  that  they  were  well!  He  buried  his 
face  in  his  hands;  but  he  straightened  up  quickly. 
Oh,  yes,  straightened  and  smiled;  though  the  tears 
were  streaming  down  his  cheeks.  It  was  a  smile 
of  such  heartfelt  thanksgiving  that  no  verbal 
prayer  of  praise  could  have  expressed  it. 

"  Now,  tell  me!  "  He  sat  down,  to  show  that 
he  could  be  perfectly  quiet,  and  he  put  his  hands 
on  his  knees.  "  Tell  me  all  about  it !  Tell  me 
everything !  Sit  down,  Billy !  "  and  the  older  man 
hitched  his  chair  closer.  "  How  do  they  look? 
How  have  they  prospered?  Jean,  my  wife? 

88 


THE  ENEMY  89 

And  what  is  my  little  Tavy  like?  Billy!  Tell 
me!" 

"  In  a  minute,"  laughed  Billy.  "  I'll  have  to 
sort  those  questions,  Stuart.  First  of  all,  your 
little  girl  —  Say,  what  is  her  regular  name?  " 

"  Octavia.     What  about  her?  " 

"Well,  she's  a  beauty!  A  regular  stunner, 
Stuart!  Big,  dark  eyes,  but  I  couldn't  tell  exactly 
what  color  they  are.  Dark  gray,  like  yours,  I 
think.  I  never  saw  eyes  so  changeable;  and  they 
seem  to  read  a  fellow  through  and  through !  She 
must  think  I'm  a  blithering  idiot,  the  way  I  stam- 
mered around  when  she  came  to  the  door. 
You  see,  I  had  just  climbed  four  flights  of 
stairs " 

The  old  man,  who  had  been  listening  with  every 
expression  of  delight,  suddenly  held  out  his  hand, 
and  his  face  paled. 

"  Wait,"  he  interrupted.  "  You  say  you  had 
climbed  four  flights  of  stairs.  Where  were 
they?" 

Billy  gulped  and  thought  quickly. 

"  In  some  mighty  cozy  apartments  downtown. 
I  never  saw  a  more  cheerful  and  homelike  room  in 
my  life  than  the  one  I  was  in !  "  and  he  looked  with 
disdain  on  his  quarters.  There  was  a  world  of 
ease  in  them,  but  no  home.  "  They  had  your  ma- 


90  THE  ENEMY 

hogany  drawing-desk  in  that  room.  It's  a  hand- 
some thing!  " 

The  old  man's  face  softened.  At  least  they 
were  not  poor!  If  the  apartment  corresponded 
to  that  mahogany  desk,  and  he  well  knew  the  good 
taste  of  Jean,  they  were  in  comfortable  circum- 
stances. No  doubt  apartments  would  be  more 
convenient  for  two  lone  women. 

"  Jean !  "  he  begged.     "  What  of  her  ?  " 

"  She  is  beautiful,  too,  and  sweet.  Of  course 
her  hair  is  gray." 

"  Tell  me,  Billy!  "  The  words  faltered  on  his 
tongue.  "  Her  face ;  does  it  show  much  suffer- 
ing? " 

"  No."  Billy  smiled  reassuringly,  though  re- 
membering the  pathos  in  the  patient  eyes.  "  She 
has  suffered  to  be  sure,  but  her  smile  is  angelic. 
Your  daughter  has  a  touch  of  her  smile.  She  has 
the  blackest  hair  that  I  have  ever  seen !  It  curls 
all  over  her  head,  little  curls  and  big  curls  and  tight 
curls  and  soft  rolling  ones.  I  never  saw  so  many 
curls!" 

Stuart,  too,  was  laughing,  rocking  backward  and 
forward  in  his  chair  and  slapping  his  waxen  white 
hands  on  his  knees. 

"  Just  like  when  she  was  a  kiddie !  "  he  ex- 
claimed. "  She  was  five  years  old  when  I  last  saw 


THE  ENEMY  91 

her,  and  bright  as  a  dollar !  Just  about  this  high," 
and  he  stretched  out  his  hand  as  if  she  were  stand- 
ing at  his  knee,  and  he  were  patting  her  head.  "  I 
used  to  call  her  all  sorts  of  names  based  on  those 
inky  curls,  but  she  would  have  none  of  them. 
*  Tavy  '  was  her  name,  and  nothing  else  would  do ! 
She  couldn't  say  Octavia."  He  mused,  and 
smiled  in  fondness.  "  What  did  you  think  of  my 
library?" 

"  I  wasn't  in  the  library,"  Billy  acknowledged 
slowly,  feeling  that  he  was  on  dangerous  ground. 

"  But  the  drawing-desk,"  puzzled  Stuart. 
"  That  was  always  kept  with  the  library.  It  fitted 
so  well  with  the  old  mahogany  bookcases.  In 
what  room  was  the  desk?  " 

"  Oh,  just  a  sort  of  general  room,"  evaded  the 
young  man. 

"  I  know,"  smiled  Stuart,  quite  content.  "  But 
it  will  be  all  strange  to  me,  for  the  taste  of  Jean 
will  be  supplemented  by  the  taste  of  Tavy,  and  of 
course  she  has  ideas  of  her  own.  She  had  them 
even  as  a  kiddie.  Are  her  cheeks  as  red  as  ever?  " 

"Red?  No!"  vigorously  denied  Billy. 
"  They're  a  more  delicate  tone  than  was  ever 
spread  on  old  ivory  out  of  the  most  carefully  fur- 
nished pallet  box.  She  is  like  a  pink  pearl !  She 
is  like  a  wild  white  rose  touched  with  the  sunset! 


92  THE  ENEMY 

She's  a  marvel,  Stuart!  She  would  set  an  artist 
mad,  with  her  dainty  coloring  and  her  perfectly 
classical  features !  She  is  one  who  startles,  and 
then  attracts  —  compelling  you  to  study  her  detail 
by  detail !  "  and  Billy  warmed  to  his  work,  as  he 
read  in  the  glistening  eyes  of  his  partner  the  joy 
and  the  pride  in  this  recital.  u  She  beats  anything 
I've  seen  in  New  York;  and  I've  been  around 
some!  If  she  ever  puts  on  a  fluffy  gown  and  ap- 
pears on  the  Avenue,  she'll  be " 

"On  the  Avenue?"  The  expression  of  keen 
delight  faded  from  Stuart's  face,  and  he  studied 
the  younger  man  sharply.  "  If  she  ever  puts  on 
a  fluffy  gown —  Billy;  don't  hide  anything  from 
me." 

Lane  blushed.  This  had  been  his  day  for  feel- 
ing contemptible. 

"  Well,  I  don't  think  they're  rich,  if  that's  what 
you  mean,"  he  finally  blurted. 

"What's  their  address?" 

"  Seventy-nine  Vanheuster  Square,  North." 

"  And  you  walked  up  four  flights  of  stairs. 
That  means  a  cheap  tenement.  They  were  not  in 
the  telephone  book.  They  were  not  in  the  tax 
list.  They're  poor !  " 

"  They're  well !  "  Billy  stoutly  maintained. 
"  The  rest  of  it  we'll  fix." 


THE  ENEMY  93 

Stuart  clinched  his  kneecaps  with  his  lean  fingers, 
and  stifled  a  groan. 

"  They're  poor!  "  he  repeated,  and  set  his  teeth 
together.  "  How  do  they  live  ?  " 

"  Fancy  work,"  plumped  out  Billy,  driven  fairly 
from  cover. 

"Work!"  That  was  the  one  word  Stuart 
caught,  the  word  which  made  him  wince.  "  I 
don't  understand  it.  I  thought  I  left  them  plenty 
of  money;  unless  Jean  paid  certain  outstanding 
claims  which  I  had  intended  to  take  care  of  myself. 
But  they  couldn't  have  touched  her  money.  That 
was  why  I  turned  my  securities  into  cash  for  her." 

"  That  probably  explains  it,"  surmised  Billy, 
going  back  over  their  conversation.  '  You  know, 
Stuart,  it  was  too  bad  that  this  accident  happened 
to  you !  What  do  you  suppose  she  said,  when  I 
suggested  that  we  could  have  the  book  completed? 
That  it  was  her  duty  to  protect  your  reputation 
for  authoritative  accuracy!  She  was  proud  of  it, 
old  man;  and  so  was  Tavy;  proud  as  Lucifer! 
Her  chin  was  tilted  and  her  eyes  fairly  snapped 
with  pride." 

It  was  on  this  that  Stuart  broke.  His  resistance 
enfeebled  by  his  illness,  he  folded  his  arms  on  the 
table  and  dropped  his  head  on  them,  his  fingers 
clutching  convulsively. 


94  THE  ENEMY 

"  Buck  up,  old  man,"  counselled  Billy,  pacing 
the  floor  in  distress.  He  paused,  and  poured  him- 
self a  drink.  "  The  thing  for  us  to  do  is  to  dig  in 
and  improve  their  condition.  If  you  want  an  ad- 
vance on  what  we're  going  to  do  this  year,  I'll 
fork  it  over  cheerfully.  You  don't  know  how 
much  pleasure  it  will  give  me,"  and  Billy  was  quite 
sincere  about  that.  "  Now  don't  refuse !  You've 
already  saved  my  life  on  the  Pannard  Building, 
and  your  invention  of  that  assembly  hall  truss  will 
make  a  reputation  for  our  firm.  It's  a  piker  prop- 
osition to  say  that  you've  already  earned  five  thou- 
sand dollars,  but  you  can  take  that  much  without 
any  feeling  of  obligation.  Now  how  shall  we  get 
it  to  them?" 

Stuart  had  straightened  up,  and  he  smiled  his 
gratitude.  He  was  not  yet  quite  master  of  him- 
self, nor  strong  enough  physically  to  expect  to  be. 

"  I've  an  idea !  "  presently  figured  Billy,  as  busy 
with  the  project  as  if  it  were  a  problem  in  floor 
loading.  "  We'll  say  it's  recovered  from  some  old 
account."  It  occurred  to  Lane  that  he  might  take 
the  check  around  himself,  and  then  it  occurred  to 
him  that  he  would  be  compelled  to  forego  that 
privilege.  Mrs.  Stuart  might  investigate.  He 
gave  up  the  gaudy  plan  with  a  sigh.  "  Who  was 
your  attorney?  " 


THE  ENEMY  95 

"  Donald  Cullam."  Stuart  was  eager,  now,  as 
eager  as  his  young  partner. 

"Then  it's  easy;  unless  Cullam's  dead,"  re- 
joined the  practical  Billy.  "  If  he  is,  we'll  get 
another  lawyer.  Then,  possibly  we  can  make  some 
money  out  of  the  book,  after  you've  fussed  it  up. 
I  am  to  see  them  about  that  again  next  week." 
He  added  this  last  with  particular  zest ! 

Stuart  rose  and  paced  the  floor,  keeping  step 
with  Billy. 

"  I  have  something  to  live  for!  "  he  said,  with 
a  thrill  of  new  purpose  in  his  voice.  u  God  will- 
ing, I'll  make  what  amends  I  can!  I'm  going 
down  to  the  office  to-morrow !  " 

"  Don't  overtax  yourself,"  warned  Billy  and 
headed  for  his  dressing-room,  ringing  for  Burke 
and  starting  to  unfasten  his  cravat  as  he  went. 

"  Shall  you  remain  to  dinner  to-night?  "  asked 
Stuart,  reaching  for  a  cigarette. 

"  Sorry,  old  man,  but  I'll  have  to  allow  you  to 
dine  alone,"  returned  Billy,  unbuttoning  his  col- 
lar. "  I'm  due  at  the  Bennings'." 

Stuart  smiled,  and  glanced  at  the  portrait  on 
the  mantel.  It  was  a  remarkably  pretty  face. 

"  Is  my  Tavy  as  beautiful  as  Miss  Benning?  " 
and  there  was  a  hungriness  in  the  tone  which  ex- 
cused the  bluntness  of  the  question. 


96  THE  ENEMY 

Billy  stopped,  stumped.  The  idea  of  com- 
parison had  not  occurred  to  him;  and,  to  tell  the 
truth,  he  had  not  thought  of  Geraldine  since  noon, 
when  he  had  sent  her  some  flowers.  He  looked 
toward  the  portrait  on  the  mantel,  and  there  was 
distinct  worry  on  his  brow.  He  ran  his  fingers 
twice  through  his  hair. 

"They're  so  different,"  he  puzzled;  and  then 
his  face  brightened.  "  I  don't  think  there  could 
be  much  question  about  it,  Stuart.  Your  daugh- 
ter is  the  most  amazingly  beautiful  creature  I  have 
ever  seen!  " 


CHAPTER  X 

FACE   TO    FACE 

WHO  are  these  gay  creatures  bearing  the 
breeze  of  idleness  and  frivolity  into  the 
sedate  offices  of  William  Lane,  Engi- 
neering Architect?     Why  Geraldine  Benning  and 
Tommy    Tinkle!     Geraldine,    fresh-cheeked    and 
vivacious,  wears  an  enormous  fluff  of  white  fox;  a 
scarlet  plume  ripples  from  her  white  fur  toque, 
scarlet  sweet  peas  on  her  white  muff.     Tommy 
Tinkle  is  in  full  afternoon  regalia  from  spats  to 
gardenia. 

The  pictures  on  the  walls  of  the  severe  little 
reception-room  are  all  rigid  iron  skeletons  of  sky- 
scrapers. They  look,  as  Tommy  expresses  it, 
like  the  mounted  remains  of  deceased  buildings; 
Father  Building,  Grand-father  Building,  and  little 
Willie.  Quite  facetious  about  them  is  Tommy, 
and  delivers  an  entertaining  lecture,  while  they 
wait,  on  the  anatomy  of  commercial  edifices.  He 
even  attempts  to  trace  their  evolution  from  the 
protoplasmal  pig-iron  germ  to  their  present  high 

97 


98  THE  ENEMY 

state  of  organic  development;  but  he  gives  that  up 
when  the  laughing  Geraldine  drops  into  a  fleeting 
moment  of  seriousness  and  declares  that  the  pic- 
tures represent  achievement  and  accomplishment. 
Thereupon  Tommy  Tinkle,  in  a  particularly  in- 
fectious state  of  grin  to-day,  recites  soberly,  "  How 
doth  the  busy  little  hornet  improve  each  shining 
minute;  he  sees  a  neck,  he  sits  upon  it,  he  jabs  his 
stinger  in  it."  In  conclusion,  Tommy  invents  a 
tarantella  step,  and  almost  bumps  into  a  grave 
and  elderly  gentleman  with  a  silver  Vandyke, 
who  conies  briskly  in  from  the  hall. 

"Hello,  John  Doe!"  said  Tommy,  and  held 
out  his  hand  in  hearty  greeting. 

Smiling  with  pleasure,  William  Lane's  silent 
partner  accepted  the  proffered  hand,  and  smiled 
again  as  he  glanced  at  Geraldine. 

"  How  is  Tommy  Tinkle  since  last  night?  "  he 
inquired  with  mock  solicitude.  He  was  very  fond 
of  Tommy.  Tommy  frequently  dropped  around 
and  played  cribbage  with  him,  when  Billy  was 
out. 

"  I'm  amazing,"  declared  the  person  of  idle- 
ness. "  I'm  going  to  treat  you,  Mr.  Doe.  I'm 
going  to  permit  you  to  meet  Miss  Benning.  Miss 
Benning,  Mr.  Doe.  Mr.  Doe,  Miss  Benning." 


THE  ENEMY  99 

Geraldine  sparkled  up  at  John  Doe  with  instant 
liking,  and  he  held  her  hand  for  a  moment  and 
patted  it,  with  the  fatherly  impulse  which  had  so 
recently  sprung  in  his  breast. 

"  I  recognized  you  at  once  from  the  beautiful 
miniature  in  Billy's  library,"  he  observed  with  a 
certain  stiff  courtliness,  which  still  bore  the  traces 
of  disuse.  "  You  probably  know  the  rest." 

'  That  the  original  is  so  much  more  charming !  " 
promptly  supplemented  Tommy.  "  The  star- 
eyed  goddess  of  the  morn,  swathed  in  her  rusty 
sheen,  spreads  roseate  bliss  o'er  all  the  world, 
and  her  name  is  Geraldine !  Repeat !  " 

Now  came  that  energetic  and  ambitious  young 
business  man,  William  Lane,  with  a  long,  hard 
pencil  behind  his  ear,  and  a  frown  of  concentra- 
tion reluctantly  vacating  his  brow. 

"  Hello,  loafers,"  he  greeted  them  cordially, 
though  a  recurrent  pucker  came  between  his  eyes. 
His  head  was  still  full  of  angular  beams  and  rods. 
How  had  he  meant  to  relieve  that  weight,  at  the 
intersection  of  the  tower  with  the  thrust  of  his 
arch?  He  knew  he'd  lose  that  vague  beginning 
of  a  solution!  "May  I  offer  you  some  tea?" 
He  was  shaking  hands  with  Geraldine,  and  laugh- 
ing down  into  her  eyes.  There  was  a  curious 


ioo  THE  ENEMY 

speculation  in  her  own  as  she  studied  him.  Some- 
how, Billy  scarcely  seemed  the  same!  Business, 
of  course. 

"  You're  to  put  on  your  bonnet  and  come  right 
along  with  us,"  Geraldine  confidently  informed 
him. 

"Oh,  am  I?"  Billy  cocked  his  head  side- 
wise.  He  heard  the  'phone  bell  in  his  private 
office.  "  Wedding  or  funeral?  " 

"  Dance,"  explained  Tommy.  "  Mrs.  Wilton 
has  snapped  up  the  Lohkawanas  for  this  after- 
noon, and  they're  to  teach  us  the  new  Moukawa 
dance.  It's  a  modified  Hoola-hoola.  If  you 
don't  come,  you're  a  has-been." 

"  Better  go,  Billy,"  urged  John  Doe,  with  an 
indulgent  smile.  "  There's  no  pleasure  in  being 
a  has-been." 

"  Can't  make  it  for  an  hour,"  worried  William 
Lane,  glancing  at  his  watch;  and  Geraldine  be- 
gan to  pout. 

"  He  can;  can't  he,  Mr.  Doe?  "  She  appealed 
with  all  her  pretty  art. 

"  Billy  must  have  some  vital  reason  if  he  re- 
sists you,"  laughed  John  Doe,  and,  with  this  diplo- 
matic evasion,  he  bowed  his  adieus. 

"  Make  him  come,  Tommy!  " 

Tommy  Tinkle  held  both  hands  tragically  aloft. 


THE  ENEMY  101 

"  I  have  ceased  to  belong  to  the  ancient  order 
of  Innocent  Bystanders !  "  he  insisted.  "  When 
battle  brews,  I'm  for  the  cellar!  I'm  going  in 
and  see  Doe's  collection  of  naked  buildings.  Fight 
it  out,"  and  he  followed  into  John  Doe's  little 
private  office. 

"  I  don't  think  it's  at  all  nice  of  you,  Billy," 
Geraldine  reproached  him.  "  Every  time  there 
is  anything  special,  you  have  some  excuse;  and  I 
have  to  go  just  with  Tommy.  I  promised  Mrs. 
Wilton  I'd  bring  you." 

"  That's  bully  of  you,"  and  he  touched  a  fore- 
finger affectionately  to  her  pink  chin.  "  I'll  be 
out  in  as  much  under  an  hour  as  I  can  make  it." 

"  That  won't  do."  She  laughed  her  gay  silvery 
ripple.  "  You  are  to  come  with  me!  "  Charm- 
ing little  way  she  had  of  ordering  people  about. 
She  had  ordered  Billy  for  years. 

"  Then  that's  the  program."  He  looked  at  his 
watch,  and  frowned  in  calculation.  "  I  can  get 
Doe  to  take  up  the  Pannard  Building  with  Joe 
Mullen.  Doe's  as  good  as  I  am;  better.  If 
you'll  wait,  I  think  I  can  be  foot-loose  in  half  an 
hour;  or  less." 

"  I'll  do  nothing  of  the  sort!  "  She  was  justly 
indignant.  "  Wait !  You'll  put  on  your  hat  and 
come  at  once !  " 


102  THE  ENEMY 

Acute  distress  was  on  Lane's  good-natured 
countenance. 

"By  George,  I  simply  can't!"  He  took  his 
pencil  from  behind  his  ear,  and  replaced  it.  "  I 
have  to  tell  my  draughtsmen  how  to  go  ahead  be- 
fore I  leave  this  office.  Just  run  in  with  Mr.  Doe 
and  Tommy,  and  wait.  Please,  Geraldine !  " 

As  she  turned,  she  stopped  abruptly.  The  hall 
door  had  opened,  and  there  stood  in  it,  diffidently, 
an  extremely  beautiful  girl !  Geraldine  glanced 
swiftly  at  Billy,  and  then  followed  his  pleased  and 
astonished  eyes  to  the  girl  again.  Oval  face,  big 
dark  eyes,  black  curls;  trim  little  dark  blue  suit, 
but  inexpensive;  jaunty  little  dark  blue  hat,  perked 
with  a  stiff  white  feather.  The  eyes,  large,  lu- 
minous, and,  for  a  flashing  moment,  as  they  con- 
sidered Geraldine  beneath  their  long  curving 
lashes,  they  seemed  to  change  from  dark  gray  to 
violet!  Billy!  He  was  positively  beaming  with 
delight!  He  almost  rushed  over  to  the  girl! 
She  was  beautiful.  Billy  was  absurdly  suave,  and 
there  was  not  a  trace  of  a  girder,  or  a  beam,  or 
a  bolt,  nut,  or  even  washer  in  his  head!  One 
could  easily  tell  that ! 

"  This  is  an  unexpected  pleasure !  "  Billy's 
voice  rang.  "  Quite  opportune,  too ;  I  have  some- 
thing for  you !  " 


THE  ENEMY  103 

The  young  lady  was  very  prim,  as  her  dark 
gray  eyes  rested  demurely  in  the  exact  center  of 
Billy's  frankly  admiring  gaze. 

"  That's  nice,"  she  dimpled.  "  Mother  has 
just  discovered  a  few  extra  pages  of  manuscript, 
which  may  or  may  not  belong  to  the  book,  and  she 
thought  you  might  need  them  at  once.  She  was 
unable  to  come  out  to-day." 

"  Too  bad !  "  sympathized  Billy,  with  every  ap- 
pearance of  satisfaction.  "  Oh,  Geraldine.  Miss 
Stuart,  Miss  Benning."  He  stepped  back  with 
positive  joy  as  he  brought  these  beautiful  creatures 
together.  "  You  don't  know  what  a  tremendous 
pleasure  it  gives  me  to  introduce  you  two  girls." 
Then  he  added  the  fatal  sentence  which,  since  time 
began,  has  proved  all  men  to  be  asses.  "  I'm  sure 
that  you'll  like  each  other  immensely  1  " 

They  did.  They  smiled  at  each  other  their 
intense  delight  at  the  meeting,  the  gray  eyes  and 
the  brown.  They  each  displayed  a  thorough  ap- 
preciation of  the  other's  undeniable  beauty.  Ger- 
aldine finished  with  a  droop  of  her  eyes  and  a  fluff 
of  her  gorgeous  muff.  She  was  most  gracious  I 

They  chatted.  They  occupied  the  conventional 
moment  or  so  with  wondrous  ease  and  poise, 
though  imps  began  to  dance  in  the  violet  eyes  and 
twinkle  from  the  black  curls.  How  sweet  and 


io4  THE  ENEMY 

soft-voiced   the   young   ladies    were!     Billy   was 
overjoyed. 

Geraldine  turned  to  him  with  her  most  engag- 
ing smile. 

"  I'll  wait  for  you,  Billy,"  she  cooed,  and  went 
in  to  join  Tommy  and  John  Doe.  Bully  girl  she 
was !  Always  extra  sweet  after  a  flare-up. 

"  Now  for  the  manuscript,"  said  Lane,  and  led 
the  way  to  his  private  office,  where,  with  brisk 
haste,  he  placed  a  chair  at  the  side  of  his  desk 
for  Octavia  Stuart,  and  sat  down  in  his  own  swivel. 
Lady  visitors  were  rare  in  the  William  Lane  of- 
fices, and,  moreover,  this  was  the  first  time  Octavia 
had  called!  Billy  had  been  at  the  house  three 
times,  on  business. 

"  Is  your  mother's  cold  no  better?  "  he  inquired 
solicitously,  as  the  caller  produced  some  neatly 
folded  pages  of  manuscript  from  her  handbag. 

"  Quite  a  bit,  thank  you,"  smiled  the  girl,  lift- 
ing  her  eyes  to  Billy's,  which  was  an  awkward  thing 
to  have  done,  for  it  stopped  him  completely  in 
something  he  was  about  to  say.  To  save  him,  he 
could  not  remember  what  it  was ! 

"  Colds  are  very  disagreeable  at  this  time  of 
year." 

'  Yes,  aren't  they?  "     Imps  in  the  violet  eyes, 
imps  in  the  twinkling  curls,  imps  in  the  fleeting 


THE  ENEMY  105 

dimples.  She  serenely  waited  for  him  to  open 
the  pages  of  manuscript,  but  he  chucked  them  into 
a  drawer. 

"  I  haven't  had  a  cold  this  winter."  He  of- 
fered that  in  lieu  of  a  brilliant  thought,  and  won- 
dered what  was  the  matter  with  him.  Dog-gone 
him,  he  wasn't  usually  dumb ! 

The  girl  suddenly  took  compassion  on  him;  nice, 
big,  good-natured  chap  that  he  was.  How  splen- 
didly his  head  was  set ! 

"  Here's  something  you'll  like,"  she  smiled,  and 
from  her  handbag  she  produced  a  sample  of  a 
place-card  for  a  children's  party.  She  was  re- 
warded by  Billy's  instant  hearty  laugh.  Such 
things  as  this  had  amused  him  so  much  the  last  time 
he  was  at  the  house.  The  sample  folded  into  the 
shape  of  a  Noah's  ark,  with  a  giraffe  sticking  its 
head  out  of  the  chimney.  "  They're  all  to  be  dif- 
ferent, of  course,"  she  explained;  "  a  monkey  look- 
ing out  of  a  window  of  one,  and  a  green  snake 
crawling  around  another,  and  —  oh,  all  sorts  of 
animals." 

'  Your  idea,  I'll  bet.  You  and  your  mother 
have  a  positive  genius  for  these  little  creative 
things."  He  was  much  more  at  ease,  except  that 
he  was  worried. 

Why  had  he  told  her  that  he  had  something  for 


106  THE  ENEMY 

her!  It  rustled  now  in  his  pocket,  as  he  closed 
the  drawer  in  which  he  had  put  the  manuscript. 
It  was  an  advance  royalty  check  for  five  hundred 
dollars,  which  he  had  wrung  out  of  the  book  pub- 
lishers. Brilliant  thought!  A  dash  of  color  in 
the  drawer  had  caught  his  eye.  Tommy  Tinkle's 
fantastic  sketches  for  a  next-month  costume  ball. 
Wouldn't  Tommy  scream  when  those  sketches 
were  reported  lost!  "  I  said  I  had  something  for 
you,  and  here  it  is,"  he  happily  stated,  producing 
the  gay  little  sketches.  "  I  thought  your  mother 
might  use  them  for  her  dolls."  Hang  Tommy! 
He  could  make  new  ones,  and  naturally  they  would 
be  different. 

"  Aren't  they  clever !  "  cried  Octavia,  her  eyes 
sparkling. 

Billy  touched  his  pocket  with  satisfaction.  His 
laugh  was  quite  care-free. 

"  By  the  way,"  he  observed,  "  I'm  sure  to  have 
a  check  for  your  mother,  in  the  late  mail.  I'll 
bring  it  down  to  the  house,  if  I  may." 

Only  a  flash  of  the  imps.  The  mails  were  still 
running,  but,  of  course  — 

"  That's  mighty  nice  of  you."  There  was  a 
trace  of  her  mother's  drawl  in  her  voice  at  times. 
Delicious!  It  was  music!  Billy  violently  re- 


THE  ENEMY  107 

pressed  the  desire  to  mention  her  eyes,  and  her 
black  curls,  and  a  few  other  things. 

"  What  a  grand  little  hat!  "  He  laughed  at 
it  as  he  had  laughed  at  the  place  card,  a  laugh  of 
pure  delight. 

A  little  touch  of  color  came  into  the  delicately 
tinted  cheeks,  but  she  dimpled. 

"  I  like  it,"  she  confessed,  and  instinctively 
hunted  for  a  change  of  subject.  '  We  have  had 
a  streak  of  good  fortune,  mother  and  I.  Father's 
former  attorney  has  just  recovered  some  money 
from  an  old  account.  Five  thousand  dollars  I  " 

"  Great !  "  enthusiastically  returned  Billy,  with 
well  expressed  surprise.  "  By  George,  that's  quite 
a  little  windfall." 

"  Isn't  it!  "  She  was  most  elated.  "  Mother 
is  so  very  happy  about  it.  We  shall  be  able  to 
clear  up  the  very  last  of  the  encumbrance  which 
lay  against  father's  estate,  and  we  have  quite  a 
bit  left  for  outlandish  luxury." 

"  Oh,"  and  the  blank  expression  on  Billy's  face 
was  painful.  He  was  actually  distressed.  "  It's 
a  pity  you  have  to  spend  any  of  that  money  for  out- 
lawed claims.  Can't  your  father's  attorney  do 
something  about  it?  " 

"  He's  always  wanted  to,"  she  explained.     "  He 


io8  THE  ENEMY 

was  angry,  in  the  first  place,  because  mother  in- 
sisted on  paying.  In  fact,  he  flatly  refused. 
Mother  threatened  to  dismiss  him,  years  ago,  on 
that  account.  Now  we're  glad  that  she  persisted. 
There  isn't  one  dollar  of  indebtedness  against  the 
name  of  Harrison  Stuart !  " 

She  was  so  proud  of  that.  There  was  such  a 
thrill  in  her  voice;  there  was  such  a  glow  in  her 
dark  eyes  that  poor  Billy  had  a  terrific  struggle  at 
self-restraint. 

Why  the  dickens  wasn't  it  proper,  for  him  to 
state  his  sincere  and  frank  admiration!  Why 
couldn't  he  just  take  her  hand  in  his,  say  both 
hands,  and  make  a  few  warm  and  heartfelt  re- 
marks, looking  deep  down  into  her  eyes  mean- 
while, and  —  Oh,  confound  it  I 

"  Possibly  your  lawyer  may  recover  more,"  he 
suggested.  They  had  a  new  job  in  the  office,  and 
John  Doe  was  designing  the  entire  structural  work. 
He  was  a  wonderful  engineer !  Why,  by  George, 
Doe  was  this  girl's  father!  Strange  Billy  hadn't 
thought  of  that  before,  except  in  an  impersonal 
sort  of  way.  He  had  been  so  occupied  with  the 
girl  herself  that  he  had  not  thought  of  her,  in  this 
office,  as  being  so  tragically  related  to  the  man 
just  on  the  other  side  of  the  partition !  He  was  as- 
tounded and  overawed  by  the  dramatics  of  this 


THE  ENEMY  109 

stupendous  thought;  so  much  so  that  he  scarcely 
heard  the  reply  she  made.  Why,  here  was  she, 
sitting  calmly  beside  him,  and  as  sweet  as  a  basket 
of  roses,  and  right  in  the  next  office  was  her  long- 
lost  father!  What  an  astounding  situation  1 
Billy  was  absolutely  lost  in  the  contemplation 
of  it. 

"  Wait  just  a  minute,"  he  said,  and  jumped  up 
with  sudden  impulsive  decision.  "  I'd  like  you  to 
meet  my  partner,  Mr.  Doe,  the  man  who  is  to  re- 
vise your  father's  manuscript."  Could  you  beat 
that !  Here  was  Harrison  Stuart  revising  his  own 
book,  and  had  to  pretend  to  be  presumptuous  about 
it!  And  here  was  his  daughter!  Tavy!  "I'll 
see  if  he's  in." 

The  private  office  of  John  Doe  was  occupied  by 
Geraldine  and  Tommy  Tinkle,  and  Tommy  was 
making  a  careful,  though  somewhat  idealized, 
sketch  of  Geraldine. 

"Almost  ready,  Billy?"  inquired  Geraldine, 
smiling  brightly  at  him.  There  was  not  a  trace 
of  petulance  in  her. 

"  Don't  move,"  cautioned  Tommy.  "  Don't 
move  or  I'll  fore-shorten  your  nose." 

Billy's  ears  burned  with  guilt. 

"  I'm  rushing  things,"  he  hastily  assured  her, 
and  hurried  into  the  inner  office,  where  John  Doe, 


no  THE  ENEMY 

tall  and  gaunt,  bent  over  his  drawing-board  with 
absorbed  interest. 

"How  are  you  feeling,  Hal?"  Billy  inquired 
with  anxious  solicitude.  The  contraction  "  Hal  " 
had  been  adopted  between  them  as  a  safe  com- 
promise for  public  and  private  occasions. 

"  Stronger  every  day,"  returned  the  older  man 
cheerfully.  "  I  gained  a  pound  and  a  half  in  the 
past  week." 

Billy  inspected  him  with  a  critical  eye.  "  Fine," 
he  decided.  "  There's  a  client  in  my  office  I'd  like 
you  to  have  a  glimpse  of.  Just  peep  through  the 
crack  of  the  door." 

The  old  man  smiled  at  that  suggestion,  but 
started  towards  the  door. 

"  It's  a  young  lady,"  added  Billy,  with  a  non- 
chalance which  unfortunately  had  a  break  in  it. 

"Who  is  she?"  The  old  man  had  stopped, 
and  turned  to  Billy. 

"  I'll  tell  you  about  her  later." 

"Tavy!"  He  began  to  tremble.  "It's 
Tavy!"  and  there  was  a  vibration  in  the  tone 
which  thrilled  the  very  roots  of  Billy's  hair. 

"  Now,  look  here,  Stuart,  you  told  me  you  were 
feeling  fine,  you  know." 

The  old  man  straightened,  and  pressed  his  lips 
firmly  together. 


THE  ENEMY  in 

"  I  am  strong,"  he  said.  "  I  want  to  see  my 
daughter!  " 

"Certainly!"  Billy  was  at  his  side  as  he 
strode  to  the  door;  Billy  was  holding  his  arm. 
"  Peep  through  the  crack  first,  then  come  back 
and  sit  down  a  while,  and  I'll  take  you  out  and  in- 
troduce you." 

The  old  man  smiled  on  him,  then  he  threw 
open  the  door,  and  walked  firmly  into  Billy's  office. 

Octavia  saw  before  her  a  spare,  courtly  looking 
old  gentleman,  whose  eyes  had  in  them  such  pro- 
found longing  that  her  heart  went  out  to  him  at 
once  in  a  thrill  of  sympathy. 

"  Mr.  Doe,  Miss  Stuart,"  remarked  Billy,  feel- 
ing much  as  if  he  were  playing  with  an  uncertain 
trigger. 

Mr.  Doe  smiled;  he  bowed  stiffly;  he  opened 
his  mouth  to  give  some  conventional  word  of  greet- 
ing, but,  instead,  his  trembling  arms  suddenly 
stretched  forth,  and  a  mighty  sob  welled  up  from 
his  breast! 


CHAPTER  XI 

WALKING   ABOUT   THE    SQUARE 

"T  IT  THAT  is  it?     What  was  the  matter?  " 
^/^/     Octavia  had  been  startled.     She  was 
pale  and  trembling.     Billy's  partner 
had  completely  broken  down,  and  Billy  had  as- 
sisted him   into   his   office.     He  was  back  now, 
his  mind  torn  by  his  duty  to  the  occupants   of 
both  rooms. 

"  The  shock  was  too  much  for  him,"  he  ex- 
plained, groping  wildly  amid  various  bits  of  ro- 
mance for  a  fabrication  which  would  fit  the  case. 
"  You  reminded  him  so  strongly  of  his  own  little 
girl.  She  was  burned  to  death  in  a  theatre  fire. 
It  was  horrible!"  and  he  wiped  his  brow.  That 
was  a  pretty  good  one.  "  I'm  so  sorry  that  it  up- 
set you.  May  I  get  you  a  glass  of  water?  "  He 
was  bending  over  her  chair  most  anxiously. 

"  Don't  mind  me,"  she  protested.  "  Poor  old 
Mr.  Doe  I  " 

'You're  trembling!"  Billy  was  almost  in  a 
panic.  Of  course  it  wouldn't  do  to  pat  her  on  the 

1 12 


6 
o 

E 

u 

I 

a 

a. 

o 
c 


THE  ENEMY  113 

shoulder  or  anything,  but  she  really  should  be 
soothed.  He  took  her  hand  instinctively  and 
stroked  her  wrist.  Just  think,  she  was  Stuart's 
daughter ! 

Geraldine  came  to  the  door  at  this  inopportune 
moment,  and  she  observed  the  wrist-stroking  with 
great  interest.  Then  she  flounced  back  and  took 
Tommy  Tinkle  away  with  her!  Billy  heard  her 
going,  and  chased  after  her;  but  he  was  too  late. 
When  he  returned  to  his  office,  Miss  Stuart  had 
discovered  that  it  was  time  for  her  to  go.  She 
was  still  somewhat  shaken,  and  Billy  really  felt 
that  he  should  take  her  home  in  his  car;  but  some- 
how he  did  not  feel  free  to  offer  this  accommoda- 
tion. Eight  o'clock  he  was  to  call  with  the  check 
—  if  he  received  it. 

There  ensued  a  busy  time  for  Billy.  Tavy's 
father,  too,  was  shaken  up,  and,  though  in  com- 
mand of  himself,  Billy  sent  him  home  for  the  day. 
Joe  Mullen  came,  and  that  meant  a  solid  three 
quarters  of  an  hour  conference.  There  was  still 
the  problem  of  the  overload  at  the  corner  of  the 
tower  to  be  considered;  but  Lane  got  the  idea  for 
that  while  he  was  talking  with  Joe  Mullen. 
Clever  idea  it  was;  but  original  and  daring.  He 
plunged  into  it  as  soon  as  Joe  left.  Fascinating 
piece  of  work!  He  had  to  turn  on  the  lights 


n4  THE  ENEMY 

before  he  was  through  with  it,  but  when  he  fin- 
ished, he  was  proud  of  himself.  It  was  a  tre- 
mendous spur  to  be  in  business  with  a  master  like 
Harrison  Stuart !  He  probably  never  would  have 
had  the  nerve  to  conceive  of  this  solution  had  it 
not  been  for  the  mental  influence  of  Hal.  In  a 
glow  of  enthusiasm,  he  marked  on  his  drawing  the 
instruction  for  his  draughtsmen,  so  that  they  could 
start  at  it  in  the  morning;  then  he  made  a  quick 
little  sketch  to  show  when  he  should  arrive  home. 
He  was  immensely  pleased  with  his  day's  work ! 

Six-fifteen!  He'd  have  to  hustle.  He'd  bet- 
ter telephone  Burke  to  —  By  thunder !  He  had 
forgotten  that  confounded  dance!  He  stopped 
aghast,  with  his  watch  in  his  hand.  Oh,  well; 
Geraldine  was  a  good  fellow,  even  if  she  had  prob- 
ably gone  away  in  a  fury.  He'd  explain  it  to  her. 
Anyhow,  a  man  had  his  business  to  attend  to! 
Business  was  important,  and  he  quite  overlooked 
the  fact,  that,  besides,  the  daringly  creative  solu- 
tion of  a  problem  like  this  was  more  fun  than  a 
dance.  A  man  could  dance  any  time. 

Too  bad  he  couldn't  see  Geraldine  to-night,  and 
square  things,  but  there  simply  wouldn't  be  time. 
He  could  not  possibly  be  late  at  the  Stuarts' ;  for  it 
was  more  or  less  in  the  nature  of  a  business  ap- 
pointment. He  had  to  deliver  that  check! 


THE  ENEMY  ir$ 

He  rushed  for  the  decanter  as  soon  as  he 
reached  his  apartments,  and  he  took  two  drinks  in 
succession.  He'd  had  rather  an  exciting  day. 

"  I  wish  you  didn't  like  that  stuff  so  well,  Billy," 
worried  Stuart.  "  A  young  man  of  your  tempera- 
ment should  choose  another  drink." 

"  I  don't  find  the  punch  in  the  other,"  was  the 
laughing  reply. 

"  It  isn't  a  punch  you  get  out  of  this,  sir,  it's  a 
jolt."  Burke.  He  had  been  permitted  to  speak 
his  mind  freely,  until  now  he  felt  the  right  to  it. 
"  Mr.  Doe  and  I  have  no  use  for  the  beast." 

"  We  have  a  league  of  our  own,"  and  Stuart's 
eyes  followed  Burke  gratefully  into  the  bathroom, 
where  all  further  evidence  of  him  was  drowned  in 
the  sound  of  rushing  water.  "  Billy,  for  the  sake 
of  my  own  conscience,  I'll  have  to  be  serious  with 
you  about  this  question  of  whisky.  It  affects  you 
too  quickly,  and  it  affects  you  too  severely.  The 
time  will  come  when  you'll  have  to  let  it  absolutely 
alone.  And  by  that  time  it  may  be  too  late." 

Lane  stood  looking  thoughtfully  down  into  his 
empty  glass.  There  were  a  couple  of  drops  in  the 
bottom,  and  he  twirled  them  slowly  around  and 
around. 

"  I  have  been  hitting  it  up  a  little  freely," 
he  confessed  with  frank  self-judgment.  "  I'll 


n6  THE  ENEMY 

have  to  watch  it.  Let  me  see.  I  was  lit  up  night 
before  last,  wasn't  I  ?  "  His  brow  cleared,  and  he 
laughed.  "That  was  certainly  some  party!  We 
started  in  for  a  little  game  of  fan-tan,  and  we 
ended  up  by  serenading  Sammy  Langster  and  his 
bride.  Regular  country  affair.  We  all  got  tea-ed 
trying  to  spiflicate  sober  Sammy  in  his  own 
house ! " 

"  Then  last  week,"  gravely  prompted  Stuart, 
who  had  no  smile  for  the  hilarious  serenade,  even 
though  he  recognized  the  genius  of  Tommy  Tinkle 
in  the  background. 

"  Last  week  was  different."  Billy  frowned,  as 
he  tossed  his  coat  and  vest  on  a  chair.  "  I  was 
down  at  the  Pannard  Building  in  the  rain  that 
night,  and  I  got  some  of  Mike  Dowd's  good  old 
whisky.  I  took  three  drinks  while  I  talked  with 
Mike,  and  by  the  time  I  got  up  to  the  club  I  seemed 
to  want  more.  First  time  I  ever  had  that  sensa- 
tion ;  a  sort  of  a  craving.  I  don't  like  it." 

The  older  man  shuddered. 

"Be  careful,  Billy,"  he  warned.  "That's  a 
bad  symptom.  If  that  craving  is  ever  firmly  es- 
tablished in  a  man,  it  never  quite  leaves  him  as 
long  as  he  lives." 

"  It  can  be  controlled,"  argued  Billy,  who  had 
no  measure  of  this  foe  because  he  had  never,  as 


THE  ENEMY  117 

yet,  deemed  it  necessary  to  offer  any  particular  re- 
sistance. "  Look  at  you.  Why,  you  haven't 
taken  a  drink  since  your  second  night  here." 

Harrison  Stuart  drew  in  his  breath  sharply. 

"  Do  you  think  it  has  cost  me  nothing?  "  His 
voice  was  suddenly  harsh.  "  Do  you  know  how 
many  weary  hours  I  have  fought,  walking  round 
and  round  that  table?  "  and  he  indicated  the  de- 
canter. "  The  yellow  devil  in  that  bottle  calls  to 
me  in  the  night,  it  drags  me  from  sound  sleep,  and, 
before  I  am  awake,  I  am  out  here  with  that  bottle 
in  my  hands!  I  have  stood  there  holding  it  for 
fifteen  minutes  at  a  time,  shaking  from  head  to 
foot,  with  the  perspiration  pouring  from  my  brow. 
I  have  sat  down,  weak  and  faint  and  sick,  from  the 
agony  of  that  fight!  No,  don't  put  it  away, 
Billy!  "  and  his  jaws  set.  "  I  have  some  safety 
in  the  very  fact  that  my  enemy  is  visible.  The 
damned  stuff  waits  for  me !  It  tries  to  take  me  un- 
aware !  I  walk  into  this  room.  I  am  studying 
some  problem  of  construction.  I  have  no  thought 
of  whisky  in  my  mind,  no  apparent  feeling  for  it  in 
my  body.  Suddenly,  just  as  I  pass,  my  eye  catches 
the  golden  glint  of  it;  and  then,  before  I  know 
it,  the  fight  is  on  me  again.  And  it  is  all  to  be 
done  over,  Billy;  over  and  over.  Why,  look!" 
He  stopped  his  nervous  pacing,  and  pressed  his 


n8  THE  ENEMY 

hands  upon  his  chest.  "I  am  Harrison  Stuart! 
I  have  everything  in  the  world  to  live  for!  I 
have  my  work;  I  have  my  reputation  to  regain;  I 
have  my  wife;  I  have  Tavy;  and  I  have  the  mem- 
ory of  that  horrible  hell  to  warn  me !  I  know  that 
one  drink  of  the  infernal  liquor  will  set  up  in  me  a 
thirst  which  will  not  stop  until  I  die!  I  have  no 
strength  to  come  back  a  second  time.  And  yet, 
as  I  stand  here  this  minute,  I  want  it !  "  A  piteous 
appeal  rang  into  his  voice.  "  I  want  it !  "  He 
reached  out  his  quivering  hands  towards  the  decan- 
ter. His  fingers  were  working  convulsively,  and 
over  his  countenance  came  such  terrific  traces  of 
the  bygone  Bow-Wow,  that  Billy  was  horror- 
stricken!  There  was  an  agony  of  passionate  de- 
sire in  his  suddenly  blearing  eyes,  as  they  distended 
upon  the  gleaming  yellow  contents  of  the  cut-glass 
bottle.  He  was  bent  and  crouched,  and,  for  a  mo- 
ment, it  seemed  as  if  he  were  about  to  seize 
the  bottle,  and  drain  it  to  its  dregs,  and  die! 
Billy  hurriedly  snatched  up  the  decanter.  The 
old  man's  eyes  followed  it  greedily,  but  he  straight- 
ened, and,  with  a  stern  struggle  of  his  muscles, 
regained  control  of  himself.  He  was  deathly 
pale,  and  a  cold  perspiration  stood  on  his  forehead. 
"  That's  what  it  is  to  crave!  "  His  voice  was 
hollow  and  of  inexpressible  mournfulness.  He 


THE  ENEMY  119 

shook  his  head.  "  Hard  liquor  isn't  for  some 
people,  and  I'm  afraid  you're  one  of  us." 

Billy  held  out  the  decanter  and  looked  at  it  as  if 
it  were  some  new  species  of  bomb.  He  set  it 
down  slowly. 

"  If  I  thought  it  could  ever  get  me  like  that, 
I'd  never  touch  it  again,"  he  pondered.  "  But, 
Hal,  I  can't  afford  to  admit  that  there  is  anything 
in  myself  which  I  can  not  conquer  and  control! 
To  say  that  I  do  not  dare  do  this  or  that  would 
weaken  me  in  my  own  confidence  of  strength.  It 
would  take  something  from  me  which  I  could  never 
replace.  It  would  rob  me  of  one  of  the  big  things 
which  make  me  a  man.  If  I  need  to  control  this 
stuff,  I'll  control  it;  but  I  won't  run  from  it." 

"Run,  Billy!"  begged  Stuart.  "Be  a  cow- 
ard! It's  the  bravest  thing  you  can  do!  I  have 
been  thinking  of  all  this  with  especial  keenness  to- 
day. You  know,  I  met  Miss  Benning  in  the  office. 
She's  a  charming  girl,  Billy;  a  delightful  girl." 

"Isn't  she?"  Billy's  voice  rang  with  enthu- 
siasm. "  The  best  girl  in  the  world !  " 

The  old  man  smiled. 

"  She  likes  you,  Billy,"  and  he  shook  his  head. 
"  Really  though,  speaking  from  the  viewpoint  of  a 
bystander,  I  should  be  distressed  to  see  you  marry, 
with  this  tendency  growing  upon  you.  Very  few 


120  THE  ENEMY, 

hard  drinkers  are  reformed  by  marriage.  The 
reformation  must  come  from  within  themselves, 
or  not  at  all.  I  am  taking  this  liberty  because  of 
my  gratitude  to  you,  because  of  my  affection  for 
you,  and  because  I  know,  as  few  men  are  unhappy 
enough  to  know,  just  how  tragic  the  consequences 
of  an  unconquered  fight  against  that  foe  might  be. 
My  God,  Billy,  can't  you  realize  what  it  has 
brought  me  to !  Didn't  you  find  me  in  a  condition 
lower  than  the  brutes!  Didn't  you  discover  my 
gentle-born  family  humiliated,  disgraced,  and  liv- 
ing in  poverty?  Didn't  you  see  me,  to-day,  stand 
before  my  own  daughter,  and  not  dare  to  say  that  I 
was  her  father,  and  not  dare  to  take  her  in  my 
arms,  not  dare  to  call  her  my  Tavy!  And,  oh, 
Billy,  she's  beautiful !  Beautiful !  " 

Here,  at  last,  was  a  proposition  with  which  Billy 
could  agree,  and  the  look  of  distress  left  his  brow. 

"  Didn't  I  tell  you  you  wouldn't  believe  how 
beautiful  she  is  until  you  saw  her?  "  he  enthusiasti- 
cally reminded  Stuart.  "  I'm  going  over  there  to- 
night." 

"Are  you?"  The  old  man's  earnestness  was 
lost  in  his  eagerness.  Billy's  reports  of  his  visits 
to  the  Stuart  home  were  what  the  old  man  lived 
on.  If  he  could  not  go  himself,  he  could  go  by 


THE  ENEMY  121 

sympathetic  proxy.  "  I'll  sit  up  and  wait  for 
you." 

"  Go  to  sleep,"  urged  Billy,  beaming  down  at 
him  in  great  friendliness.  They  were  pals  again 
now,  conspirators  together.  "  I'll  waken  you. 
I've  a  great  excuse  this  time.  That  chejck  1  " 

They  both  laughed.  The  framing  of  excuses 
for  Billy  to  call  at  the  Stuart  home  had  been  one 
of  their  most  elaborate  pastimes. 

"  You  didn't  give  it  to  Tavy  this  afternoon." 

"Certainly  not!"  laughed  Billy  in  triumph. 
"  I  almost  cheated  us  out  of  this  call,  but  I  remem- 
bered in  time.  What  do  you  think  of  this,  Hal?  " 
and  he  tossed  over  the  sketch  he  had  brought 
home.  "  By  jinks,  I'll  have  to  hustle!  "  In  two 
minutes  more,  he  was  heard  splashing. 

So  he  was  expected  to  marry  Geraldine!  He 
pondered  this,  as  he  deftly  tied  his  black  bow. 
What  the  dickens  was  the  matter  with  people! 
Couldn't  a  fellow  have  a  close  girl  friend  without 
their  being  hustled  into  matrimony  about  it? 
Wouldn't  Geraldine  enjoy  that!  Why,  they  were 
as  open  with  each  other  as  Tommy  and  himself! 
They  were  all  in  a  bunch  together.  People  mighty 
seldom  married  in  their  school-day  crowd.  It  was 
like  marrying  in  one's  own  family.  He  seized 


122  THE  ENEMT 

his  brushes,  and  tackled  his  hair  with  impatient 
vigor.  It  was  stubborn  to-night.  Tommy  Tinkle 
was  with  Geraldine  more  than  he,  and  nobody  ever 
thought  of  marrying  them ! 

"  I  think  I'll  go  along,"  said  Stuart,  as  Billy 
joined  him  at  the  table;  and  there  were  traces 
of  imps  dancing  in  his  dark  grey  eyes.  His  hair 
had  been  black  when  he  was  young. 

"  Eh!  "  gasped  Billy.  "  Oh,  all  right.  Why 
don't  you?" 

The  imps  disappeared  instantly. 

"  Not  for  one  year  from  the  night  I  threw  the 
glass  in  your  fireplace,"  he  said;  "the  first  night 
I  saw  you  intoxicated.  But  I'm  going  far  enough 
to  look  at  the  house,  if  you  don't  mind.  I've  kept 
myself  from  that  long  enough." 

He  did  so.  He  located  the  entrance.  He  had 
Billy  point  out  the  windows;  and  then  the  young 
man  went  into  the  house,  and  shut  the  door  behind 
him. 

There  were  three  windows  in  that  room,  all 
brightly  lighted;  but,  from  a  near  viewpoint  one 
could  only  see  the  ceiling.  From  across  the 
square,  dim,  old  eyes  could  make  out  but  little  de- 
tail. At  about  half-past  eight,  a  curly  head  ap- 
peared in  a  window.  Tavy!  She  sat  in  a  rock- 
ing chair  apparently,  but  she  did  not  rock  much, 


THE  ENEMY  123 

except  as  the  chair  swayed  with  the  vivacity  of  her 
conversation. 

A  tall  figure  came  to  the  window  by  and  by. 
This  was  at  nearly  nine.  Billy!  He  stood  up, 
for  quite  a  while,  talking,  and  from  that  charac- 
teristic tilt  of  his  head,  occasionally  laughing.  He 
sat  on  the  window  ledge  afterwards.  At  nine- 
fifteen  there  appeared  a  third  figure  at  the  adjoin- 
ing window;  a  woman's  figure,  with  smoothly 
drawn  hair  done  high  on  her  head;  and  the  head 
was  bowed  slightly,  but  not  much.  Thank  God, 
not  much ! 

Jean!  Oh,  thou  good  and  faithful  Jean! 
Thou  true  Jean!  Thou  Jean  that  has  suffered, 
and  borne,  and  waited !  Oh,  may  all  the  blessings 
of  heaven  and  earth  be  thine,  thou  Jean!  May 
there  be  happiness  enough,  in  thy  days  yet  to  come, 
to  efface,  in  part,  thy  misery  in  the  weary  years 
that  are  gone !  Jean !  Jean ! 

She  peered  out  intently  into  the  night,  as  if  in 
her  soul  she  heard  that  passionate  call.  It  was 
cold  out  there,  cold  and  damp. 

"  Why,  I  thought  you'd  gone  home !  "  won- 
dered Billy,  when  he  hurled  himself  through  the 
door,  at  half-past  ten. 

"  No,  I've  been  walking  about  the  square,"  re- 
turned Stuart  calmly,  though  he  was  shivering. 


124  THE  ENEMY 

There  had  been  much  pain  in  that  lonely  vigil; 
but  there  had  been  great  happiness,  too.  He  had 
seen  them  both  this  day,  wife  and  daughter;  be- 
held them  with  his  own  eyes;  and  they  were  safe, 
safe  and  well ! 

"  Rotten  raw  out  here,"  commented  Billy,  with 
an  uncomfortable  feeling  that  he  had  been  cheat- 
ing Stuart.  Somehow,  he  felt  guilty  that  he  was 
able  to  go  through  the  door,  while  the  man  who 
had  the  natural  right  must  stay  outside.  Young 
Lane  had  a  most  troublesome  conscience.  How- 
ever, he  could  pay  part  of  the  debt  and  ease  part 
of  his  guilt.  "  I've  some  great  news  for  you!  " 
he  exulted.  "  You'll  be  able  to  watch  them  for 
two  hours  and  a  half  Thursday  night.  I'm  going 
to  take  them  to  the  theater!  We'll  sit  in  a  box, 
and  I'll  get  you  a  seat  which  will  give  you  the  best 
possible  view.  I've  a  bully  pair  of  folding  opera 
glasses  1  " 


CHAPTER  XII 

GERALDINE   MAKES  A  RUN   OF   EIGHT 


H 


"  f  T  ELLO,  Billy !  Glad  to  see  you !  "  and 
Geraldine's  voice  dripped  with  honey. 
Billy  Lane  blinked.  He  could  not 
believe  in  his  luck !  Why,  all  his  worry  had  been 
wasted !  It  was  not  necessary  for  him  to  square 
himself  for  having  failed  to  attend  Mrs.  Wilton's 
dance.  It  was  already  done.  There  wasn't  a 
word,  not  even  a  frown  or  a  cold,  chilling  glance ! 
Wasn't  Geraldine  Benning  just  about  the  best  girl 
in  the  world!  Sweeter  every  day!  Or  had 
Tommy  fixed  it?  Good  old  Tommy! 

"  I'm  glad  to  be  seen."  Billy  was  as  happy  as 
any  boy  who  has  escaped  a  scolding.  He  shook 
Geraldine  by  both  hands,  and,  drawing  her  arm  in 
his,  strolled  back  to  the  billiard-room,  where  he 
set  up  the  balls  for  their  occasional  game.  "  I'll 
have  to  stop  double  discounting  you,  Geraldine. 
You've  been  beating  me  too  steadily." 

"  Single  discount  then,"  she  gaily  accepted. 
"  It's  a  tremendous  compliment,  Billy,  to  have  you 

125 


126  THE  ENEMY 

object  to  the  double  discount."  She  banked  her 
ball,  and  laughed  as  it  came  back  to  the  rail  and 
nestled  there.  "  I've  been  making  all  the  boys 
play  with  me,  and  particularly  Tommy  and 
Daddy." 

"  Particularly  Tommy!  "  emphatically  declared 
that  young  man,  lounging  in  from  the  library. 
"  I've  played  billiards  so  much  that  I  walk  bent." 

"  Get  a  cue,  Tommy,"  ordered  Geraldine 
calmly.  u  You  have  me  to  beat  for  the  bank." 

Tommy  Tinkle  took  a  cue  and  chalked  it,  and 
banked  and  lost,  and  sat  in  one  of  the  high  chairs. 

"  Give  an  account  of  yourself,  Billy,"  he  sug- 
gested. "  Why  didn't  you  get  out  to  Mrs.  Wil- 
ton's? I  told  Geraldine  that  the  Pannard  excava- 
tion fell  in." 

"  I    didn't   believe    you,"    laughed    Geraldine. 

'  You've  fibbed  for  Billy  so  much  that  I've  learned 

to  double  discount  you."     She  made  her  first  shot 

coolly  and  accurately,  but  her  thought  was  only 

perfunctorily  with  the  game. 

"  It  is  thus  that  loyalty  is  rewarded,"  sighed 
Tommy.  "  No  matter  what  I  start,  I  get  the 
worst  of  it.  Billy,  why  didn't  you  get  to  the 
dance?  " 

The  culprit  cast  a  guilty  glance  at  Geraldine,  but 
he  met  only  the  brightest  and  freest  of  smiles.  By 


THE  ENEMY  127 

jinks,  she  was  well  got  up  to-night!  One  of  those 
soft,  shimmering,  pink,  fluffy,  filmy,  lacy  dinner 
gowns,  pearls  around  her  neck  and  in  her  gold- 
brown  hair.  Her  eyes,  too !  He  had  never  seen 
them  so  snappy.  It  was  as  if  there  were  a  smol- 
dering fire  in  them. 

"  I'll  make  a  clean  breast  of  it  and  take  my  lick- 
ing," he  offered.  "  It  started  with  Miss  Stuart." 
Geraldine  missed  her  shot,  and  stood  back  leaning 
gracefully  on  her  cue. 

"  I  was  cheated,"  complained  Tommy.  "  Ger- 
aldine says  she's  a  stunnner!  " 

"She  certainly  is!"  Billy's  enthusiasm  was 
boundless.  He  was  calculating  his  shot  with  an 
absorbed  gaze.  The  careless  Tommy  Tinkle, 
watching  Geraldine  with  the  practised  eye  of  a 
color  artist,  noted  a  fleeting  change  in  her  tint. 
Curious.  There  was  an  admixture  of  blue  in  that 
fleeting  change,  which  lasted  for  but  an  infinitesi- 
mal instant.  Probably  due  to  a  slight  stoppage  of 
the  tiny  surface  veins.  Billy  made  his  shot,  a 
well-timed  three-cushion  affair.  "  Miss  Stuart's 
father  was  a  very  famous  engineering  architect, 
and  I'm  having  a  book  published  for  Mrs.  Stuart." 
He  glanced  at  Geraldine,  and  found  her  eyes  fixed 
wonderingly  on  him.  She  did  not,  however,  ask 
him  why  he  was  concerning  himself  in  the  publica- 


128  THE  ENEMY 

tion  of  the  book.  Billy  explained  it  anyhow,  in 
answer  to  the  look.  "  I  thought  it  was  knowl- 
edge the  profession  should  have."  Somehow  the 
explanation  seemed  lame,  but  he  let  it  go.  He  ran 
three  more  points  while  he  worried  over  the  mat- 
ter. "  Well,  Miss  Stuart  brought  up  some  miss- 
ing pages  of  manuscript  yesterday,  and  Mr. 
Doe  walked  in  while  she  was  there.  He  went  all 
to  pieces !  She  reminded  him  so  much  of  his  little 
girl.  She  was  burned  to  death  in  a  theater  fire. 
It  was  horrible !  "  Billy  caught  the  astonished 
eyes  of  Tommy  Tinkle  fixed  upon  him,  and  he  sud- 
denly remembered  that  this  must  be  startling  news 
to  Tommy.  It  confused  him  so  much  that  he 
went  wide  of  an  absurdly  easy  "  set-up." 

"Terrible  affair!"  Tommy's  tone  was  per- 
fectly serious,  as  he  came  over  to  the  table,  and 
his  face  was  grave.  That  look  of  astonishment 
had  only  lasted  for  a  second,  and  the  twinkle  of 
amusement  which  had  followed  was  as  quickly 
gone.  "  I  knew  there  must  be  some  extremely 
tragic  event  in  Mr.  Doe's  life;  but,  of  course, 
he  would  not  talk  of  such  things  to  me,"  and  as 
Geraldine  stooped  to  pick  up  her  handkerchief, 
Tommy  stared  searchingly  at  his  friend. 

"  That  is  what  drove  Mr.  Doe  to  drink,"  fin- 
ished Billy,  in  his  most  sympathetic  tones  and  with 


THE  ENEMY  129 

a  gleam  of  satisfaction  in  his  eye.  The  thing 
was  wound  up  so  neatly  now. 

"  I  see."  Geraldine's  voice,  too,  was  sym- 
pathetic. "  Poor  old  Mr.  Doe !  I  liked  him  so 
much.  You  must  be  very  glad  you  brought  him 
home  that  night." 

"  Well,  rather!  "  Billy  lounged  over  by  Ger- 
aldine  and  sat  down  beside  her  for  a  comfortable 
five  minutes.  Tommy  Tinkle  was  one  of  those 
in  and  out  players  who  was  likely  to  miss  ten 
times  and  then  run  up  a  string  of  fifty.  Geral- 
dine's hand  lay  on  the  arm  of  her  chair,  and  Billy 
put  his  own  over  it.  The  hand  beneath  winced  at 
the  touch;  then  it  lay  still  and  warm-.  "  Doe's  a 
wonder!  He'll  make  my  business  the  biggest  in 
town.  I'd  say  our  business,  but  he  won't  have  his 
name  on  the  door.  If  it  hadn't  been  for  him,  I 
wouldn't  have  found  out  what  was  the  matter  with 
the  Pannard  Building!  I  wouldn't  have  gotten 
the  Arts  and  Sciences  job  at  all;  I  wouldn't  even 
have  met  Miss  Stuart!  Octavia  is  her  name. 
They  call  her  Tavy.  Cuddly,  isn't  it?" 

The  hand  on  the  chair  winced,  and  jerked  away. 
It  wavered  a  second,  and  then  went  up  quickly  to 
touch  a  strand  of  gold-brown  hair.  It  came  back 
again,  and  snuggled  its  way  under  the  big  palm. 

"  How  is  he  connected  with  her?  "     Geraldine 


130  THE  ENEMY 

had  developed  into  a  good  listener.  It  was  a  new 
trait  in  her.  Billy,  however,  caught  his  breath. 
He  was  in  a  muddle  again,  and  he  was  the  more 
confused  in  that  Tommy,  already  started  on  one 
of  his  aggravating  runs,  waited  for  an  answer. 

"  Well,  it  was  Mr.  Doe  who  suggested  that  if 
there  was  another  Harrison  Stuart  book  it  should 
be  published."  He  breathed  freely  again. 
Tommy  went  on  with  his  game. 

"  So  that's  why  you  couldn't  come  to  the  dance." 

"  That's  why."  It  was  easy  sailing  now.  All 
the  lies  were  behind  him.  "  First,  Mr.  Doe 
nearly  fainted.  Then,  Miss  Stuart  was  all  cut  up, 
and  I  had  to  look  after  her.  By  George,  she's 
a  stunning  girl !  Then  I  had  to  send  Hal  home." 
Tommy  looked  up  for  a  moment.  '  Then  I  had 
to  'tend  to  all  of  Hal's  work  and  my  own;  and  it 
was  half-past  six  before  I  could  get  away  from  the 
office !  That  only  left  me  an  hour  and  a  half  to 
hike  home,  dress,  get  my  dinner,  and  meet  my  busi- 
ness appointment."  He  laughed  happily  and 
patted  Geraldine's  hand. 

"  I  thought  it  must  be  business,"  she  smiled, 
and  seemed  very  much  relieved  about  something 
or  other.  "  I  rather  looked  for  you  to  come 
around  last  night,  and  get  your  scolding." 

"  Didn't   pull   away   'til   half-past   ten,"    Billy 


THE  ENEMY  131 

bubbled  on.  "  I  was  a  regular  caller  before  I 
came  away.  Miss  Stuart  and  her  mother  are  bully 
entertainers !  " 

The  muscles  on  the  hand  under  Billy's  con- 
tracted ever  so  slightly.  Geraldine  drew  it  away 
gently  this  time,  and  touched  her  hair  again,  and 
now  she  dropped  her  hand  in  her  lap.  A  hot  wave 
of  hatred  for  the  Stuart  girl  surged  over  her! 
She  was  herself  astonished  at  its  vehemence. 
After  all,  why  should  she  hate  the  girl?  There 
had  never  been  anything  between  Billy  and  herself ; 
nothing  but  close  friendship;  just  the  same  as  be- 
tween Tommy  and  herself.  Nevertheless  she 
hated  this  beautiful  Octavia  Stuart!  Tavy! 

'  Then  your  business  was  with  Mrs.  Stuart?  " 

"  Yes.  I  had  to  take  her  down  a  check.  I 
guess  I'm  the  sly  boy !  "  and  he  chuckled.  "  You 
know,  I  had  that  check  in  my  pocket  when  Miss 
Stuart  was  in  the  office;  but  I  wasn't  going  to  give 
up  my  chance  to  call !  Say,  Tommy ;  you  must  see 
her.  You'll  go  mad  over  her!  Won't  he, 
Geraldine?" 

1  That's  what  I  told  Tommy."  The  voice  was 
calm,  and  even,  and  sweet.  "  Tommy  would 
never  rest  until  he  sketched  her.  She  might  even 
arouse  in  him  an  ambition  to  paint  —  seriously." 

"  Not  with  my  consent,"  stated  Billy,  with  a 


132  THE  ENEMY 

laugh  which  by  no  means  concealed  his  earnest- 
ness. "  By  George,  fellows,  I'm  crazy  about  her ! 
You  never  saw  such  coloring,  Tommy;  such 
beautiful  features;  such  variety  of  facial  expres- 
sion; such  glossy  curly  black  hair;  such  wonderful 
eyes!  Say,  Tommy,  her  eyes  actually  change 
color  all  the  time !  I  could  sit  for  hours  and  just 
watch  them,  as  they  vary  with  every  thought. 
They  have  these  long,  curving  lashes,  you  know." 

"  My  turn !  "  The  voice  of  Geraldine  was  sud- 
denly sharp,  as  if  she  had  pricked  herself  with  a 
pin.  She  bent  over  the  table  and  shot  with  such 
keen  precision  as  she  had  never  shown  in  any  game. 
Her  aim  and  her  control  seemed  almost  deadly. 
She  made  a  run  of  eight,  before  Three-B  Ben- 
ning  came  in,  and  brought  with  him  a  change  of 
topic  and  of  thought.  He  chatted  jovially  with 
them  for  a  while,  and  refereed  the  game,  and 
stayed  long  enough  to  have  a  drink  with  the  boys. 
Billy  sipped  his  whisky  slowly,  and  with  a  keen 
relish.  Benning  watched  him  thoughtfully.  He 
shook  his  head. 

"  Billy,  you're  drinking  too  much,"  he  bluntly 
observed.  He  felt  entitled  to  speak  plainly. 
Why,  he  had  said  "  Googelly-googelly,"  to  the  boy 
in  his  crib. 

Young  Lane  run  his  fingers  through  his  hair 


THE  ENEMY  133 

in  distress.  He  was  very  much  worried  about 
this,  not  because  he  felt  in  any  particular  danger, 
but  because  his  friends  were  suddenly  so  concerned. 
Other  fellows  of  his  set  drank,  but  nobody  seemed 
to  worry  so  much  about  them. 

"  I  don't  understand  it,"  he  puzzled. 

"  You  drink  alone."  Benning  pronounced  this 
as  if  it  were  the  solution  of  the  entire  difficulty. 

Billy  glanced  across  at  Tommy  and  Geraldine. 
They  were  in  the  midst  of  a  warm  argument  over 
Miriam  Hasselton;  Tommy  contending  that  she 
was  clever,  and  Geraldine  that  she  was  shrewd. 
He  walked  into  the  library  with  Benning.  He 
wanted  to  reason  this  thing  out  with  him;  to  ex- 
plain; to  reassure;  and  to  settle,  too,  certain  doubts 
which  had  been  forced  upon  his  own  mind. 

Tommy  Tinkle  gave  up  his  argument,  and  con- 
tritely acknowledged  himself  in  the  wrong,  as  he 
always  did. 

"  Anyhow,"  he  observed  as  he  chalked  Geral- 
dine's  cue,  "  Miriam  is  to  be  married,  and  why 
discuss  her.  So  goes  the  world!  "  This*  with  an 
affected  sadness,  which  was  not  all  mockery. 
"  The  crowd's  breaking  up.  One  by  one  they 
all  get  caught,  and  are  married  and  drift  away 
from  us.  Pretty  soon,  Geraldine,  we'll  be  the 
only  ones  left."  For  just  an  instant  that  wince 


134  THE  ENEMY 

of  pain  on  his  humorous  features,  and  then  he 
grinned  cheerfully.  Good  old  Tommy  Tinkle! 
"  I  guess  Billy's  the  next." 

"  No !  "  The  voice  of  Geraldine  was  flat  and 
colorless.  Tommy  looked  at  her,  quickly.  Had 
she  flared  in  temper,  he  could  not  have  been  so  im- 
pressed; not  so  saddened.  Her  face  had  paled, 
her  lips  were  set,  and  her  eyes  were  hard:  "  I'm 
going  to  marry  Billy  myself  I  " 


CHAPTER  XIII 

SPRING ! 

SPRING.  Grass  and  flowers  and  weeds 
burst  through  the  brown  earth  wherever 
they  can  find  egress,  and  vie,  in  their  cheery 
green,  with  the  budding  trees.  As  if  the  vital 
forces  which  had  brought  them  into  life  and  be- 
ing had  stirred  about  its  own  concrete  roots,  the 
Pannard  Building  has  shot  up  into  the  air  like  a 
huge  fungoid  of  steel.  Spring,  too,  has  stirred 
into  activity  all  the  still  dormant  powers  of  John 
Doe.  His  frame  is  more  erect,  his  step  is  more 
elastic,  his  cheeks  have  more  of  color,  and  his  eyes 
have  more  of  snap.  Why  not?  He  has  worked 
like  a  tireless  engine,  and  he  has  accomplished! 
Has  he  still  gifts  and  abilities?  There  is  a  place 
to  use  them  now.  Has  he  the  faculty  to  coin  his 
talents  into  money?  There  is  a  place  to  spend  it 
now.  He  had  made  a  fortune  up  to  middle-age. 
He  can  make  another  in  the  years  which  are  left  to 
him.  Billy  is  to  be  thanked  for  this  opportunity. 
God  bless  Billy! 

135 


i36  THE  ENEMY 

And  God  help  Billy.  He  is  in  need  of  help. 
Nothing  seems  to  awaken  him  to  the  abyss  which 
lays  towards  the  end  of  his  journey.  Over-con- 
fidence; that  is  what  is  the  matter  with  Billy. 
Modest  enough  in  all  other  affairs,  he  is  too  sure 
of  his  strength  in  this  one  most  important  thing 
in  his  life.  If  he  over-steps  the  bounds  of  pru- 
dence in  his  own  indulgence,  it  is  an  accident.  He 
is  sorry !  He  will  watch  out  for  it  the  next  time  1 
But  when  the  next  time  comes,  it  is  an  accident 
again.  Billy,  in  these  latter  days,  is  remorseful, 
penitent,  and  ashamed,  when  such  accidents  hap- 
pen ;  but,  with  the  fatal  sufficiency  of  youth,  he  be- 
lieves that  he  can  control  himself,  that  he  can  stop 
before  it  is  too  late;  and  he  will  not  have  to  call 
himself  a  coward,  and  run  from  the  one  enemy 
which  can  overpower  him ! 

It  is  with  these  thoughts  in  his  mind  that  John 
Doe  pays  one  of  his  regular  visits  to  the  Pannard 
Building.  It  is  Spring  down  there,  too.  The 
laborers,  up  aloft  in  that  dizzying  network  of  slen- 
der steel,  whistle  and  sing  at  their  work,  as  if  they 
were  some  new  variety  of  monster  bird;  and,  at 
noontime,  they  lie  down  in  their  shirt  sleeves  on 
narrow  ledges  of  steel,  from  which  a  false  roll  of 
an  inch  or  two  would  dash  them  to  death  in  the 


THE  ENEMY  137 

street  below ;  lie  there,  in  the  balmy  air,  with  only 
the  warm  sun  to  protect  them. 

"  Fine  day,  John."  Ed  Black,  the  foreman  of 
the  steel  construction,  a  square,  dark  fellow  built 
like  an  ingot,  and  looking  as  solid.  Every  line  in 
him  straight ;  cheeks,  chin,  nose,  eyebrows. 

"  Beautiful.  What's  the  weight  of  that  girder, 
Ed?" 

Right  back  with  the  information  promptly. 

"  Looks  a  little  light."  John  Doe  shakes  his 
head.  "  Let's  see  your  blue  print." 

The  weight  is  correct  as  per  the  drawings. 
John  Doe  knits  his  shaggy  white  brows  for  a  mo- 
ment. Billy's  figures.  A  man  not  quite  clear  for 
the  moment,  might  easily  make  a  mistake.  It  is  a 
serious  matter  to  miscalculate  the  weight  of  a  gir- 
der on  the  tenth  floor  of  a  big  structure  like  the 
Pannard  Building. 

"  We'll  have  to  prove  up  those  figures.  That 
girder  looks  light  to  me." 

"  That's  what  Billy  Lane  said  just  a  little  while 
ago."  Perfectly  serene  is  Ed  Black.  If  a  mis- 
take has  been  made,  it  is  not  his.  His  straight 
brows  pucker  a  little  at  the  corners,  as  he  casts 
his  eyes  nonchalantly  upward  at  the  few  fleecy 
clouds  floating  in  the  blue  sky. 


138  THE  ENEMY 

"  Then  I've  wasted  a  trip.  I  didn't  know  Billy 
was  coming  here  to-day." 

Ed  Black  squints  down  through  the  diagonal 
web  of  the  nine  stories  below  him. 

"  I  just  now  saw  him  going  into  that  saloon; 
Mike  Dowd's  Sink;  the  Chicago  Buffet  it  is  on  the 
windows." 

Mike  Dowd's  Sink!  How  long  has  it  been 
since  John  Doe  has  seen  the  inside  of  that  place? 
Four  months !  It  seems  an  eternity.  He  glances 
down  at  himself,  and  he  smiles. 

It  is  Spring  even  in  the  Sink,  but  the  evidences 
are  not  freshness  and  brightness  and  gay  carolling. 
They  are  the  presence  of  some  wilted  mint  in  a 
glass  on  the  back-bar,  and  the  absence  of  certain 
familiar  faces.  Jerry-the-Limp  is  there,  and 
Piggy  Marshall  and  Red  Whitey  and  Tank  Ton- 
key,  these  four,  and  no  more,  except  Mike  Dowd 
himself,  who  stands  as  changeless  as  the  years 
in  his  dingy  apron,  back  of  his  dingy  bar,  on  the 
alert  for  the  dingy  nickels  of  his  dingy  customers. 
Still  broad  of  red  face  is  Mike,  and  still  yellow  is 
the  mustache  which  lifts  when  he  grins.  His  hair 
is  still  plastered  to  his  head,  and  fuzzed  back  above 
his  ears;  and  the  hands  which  he  lays  above  the 
bar  are  still  like  great  purple  slabs  of  pickled  meat, 
cut  into  fingers  at  the  ends.  All  the  others  have 


THE  ENEMY  139 

strayed  out  to  wander  between  pleasant  fields,  and 
lie  by  night  under  friendly  stars,  and  live  on  the 
fat  of  the  land,  without  trouble  and  without  toil. 
Theirs  is  the  kingdom  of  rest,  and  this  is  the 
season  of  their  reign  1 

"  Loan  me  a  pipe  full,"  says  Jerry-the-Limp. 
He  is  an  artist,  is  Jerry.  He  is  lame  when  he 
likes  and  whole  when  he  will,  and  his  eyes,  squeezed 
up  in  his  roughened  and  wrinkled  old  face,  are 
narrowed  to  almost  imperceptible  slits,  through 
the  constant  habit  of  whining  for  charity. 

"Why  don't  you  shoot  your  own  butts?" 
Piggy  Marshall,  whose  name  describes  him  ac- 
curately. Reluctantly  he  produces  three  or  four 
butts  of  smoked  cigars,  picked  up  from  the  streets 
and  from  the  floors  of  saloons;  and  one  of  these, 
the  most  frayed,  the  most  trampled,  and  the  mud- 
diest, he  gives  to  Jerry-the-Limp.  He  drops  one 
on  the  floor  unnoticed,  and  is  too  stupid  to  miss  it 
in  the  count  as  he  restores  the  others  to  his  torn 
pocket. 

Red  Whitey's  little  beady  eyes  glisten.  He  has 
a  vermilion  beard  so  sparse  that  his  chalk-white 
face  shows  through.  He  moves  over  next  to 
Piggy  on  the  much  whittled  bench,  and  presently, 
with  a  vast  pretence  of  tugging  at  his  shoe  tongue, 
he  stoops  down  and  secures  the  fallen  butt; 


i4o  THE  ENEMY 

whereat  Tank  Tonkey,  whose  belt  measures  his 
height,  gurgles  a  laugh. 

"  Red's  as  quick  with  the  lamps  as  Bow-Wow 
used  to  be,"  he  observes. 

"Bow-Wow?  Oh,  yes."  Piggy  Marshall. 
He  always  remembers  Bow-Wow,  after  a  minute 
of  profound  introspection.  "  Bow-Wow.  Un- 
humh  Humh  I "  He  chuckles,  without  reason 
and  without  thought.  Somehow,  he  always 
chuckles  when  Bow-Wow  is  mentioned. 

"I  wonder  if  they  lagged  Bow-Wow?"  pon- 
ders Jerry-the-Limp.  He  is  the  keenest  one  in  this 
crowd.  He  drinks  less,  and  he  sticks  to  whisky. 
It  is  currently  believed  that  Jerry-the-Limp  is  a 
miser,  and  has  a  vast  fortune  hidden  away  some- 
where. If  they  could  find  out  where,  they'd  kill 
Jerry-the-Limp  for  it.  "  Did  you  ever  hear  where 
Bow-Wow  went,  Mike?  " 

Mike's  mustache  draws  down  instead  of  lifting. 
None  of  this  crowd  were  in  the  place  the  night 
Bow-Wow  went  away;  that  is,  none  except  Piggy 
Marshall,  and  he  doesn't  count.  He  can't  re- 
member consecutively. 

"  Naw,"  grunts  Mike. 

Piggy  Marshall  has  an  unexpected  flash  of  re- 
membrance. 

"  He  went  away  one  night  with  a  swell." 


THE  ENEMY  141 

"  You're  a  liar."  This  from  big  Mike,  who 
mentions  the  fact  without  passion  and  without 
prejudice. 

A  gentleman  comes  in  at  the  narrow  doorway, 
a  tall,  dignified,  elderly  gentleman  in  well-fitting 
clothes,  shoulders  square,  head  erect,  eyes  clear, 
silver  Vandyke  trimmed  as  smoothly  as  if  it  had 
been  poured  into  a  mold;  a  very  prosperous  and 
well  poised  looking  elderly  gentleman,  indeed. 

"Have  you  seen  Mr.  Lane  recently?"  No 
huskiness  in  that  voice,  no  hesitation,  no  stammer- 
ing for  connected  words. 

"  Billy  Lane  ?  He  was  here  not  five  minutes 
ago." 

Big  Mike  smiles  reminiscently,  but  a  trace  of  re- 
gret crosses  the  elder  gentleman's  countenance. 
He  had  hoped  that  the  name  might  not  be  so  well 
known  1  He  walks  up  to  the  bar. 

"  A  glass  of  Vichy,  if  you  please." 

While  Mike  Dowd  produces  the  vichy,  the  stran- 
ger conquers  a  shuddering  horror  of  the  place,  and 
turns  to  a  calm  inspection  of  the  articles  on  the 
back  bar;  the  worn-looking  whisky  bottle,  the  nev- 
er-opened quart  of  champagne,  the  bitters  shaker, 
the  dusty  little  bowl  of  dusty  plaster  of  Paris  fruit, 
and  all  the  other  cheap  odds  and  ends  which  Mike 
Dowd  has  accumulated  through  the  years.  Just 


i42  THE  ENEMY 

the  same,  every  single  item;  not  one  change,  ex- 
cept for  a  new  chip  in  the  largest  wine  glass.  It's 
to  his  shame  that  all  these  things  are  so  familiar. 
It  is  to  his  deep  shame! 

He  turns  from  the  bar.  The  same  barrels  at 
the  back  of  the  room;  the  same  ghastly  blue  ceil- 
ing and  walls;  the  same  musty  odor;  the  same  dim 
haziness,  as  if  it  were  a  pit  of  Hades  in  which  the 
sulphur  had  just  burned  out.  The  very  sawdust 
on  the  floor  might  be  the  same,  for  it  is  the  old 
familiar  pasty  mire.  As  he  looks  the  hot  humilia- 
tion burns  in  him!  Why,  this  is  where  he  had 
lived !  It  had  been  home !  Home !  That  deep 
shame  increases  in  him.  It  is  good  that  he  has 
come  here  this  day.  It  is  good  that  he  remembers 
every  loathsome  object.  Let  him  never  for- 
get! 

Upon  the  benches  sit  four  battered  old  hulks, 
no,  three,  for  Jerry-the-Limp  has  now  risen,  and, 
with  his  most  exaggerated  lameness,  is  thumping 
across  the  floor,  his  face  awhine.  Red  Whitey  is 
looking  mournfully  at  the  ceiling;  for  Red,  too,  is 
an  artist.  With  elderly  gentlemen  he  always  has 
contrition  of  soul!  Piggy  Marshall  is  uninter- 
ested. He  only  works  on  the  sympathies  of 
drunken  men.  Tank  Tonkey's  fish-like  eyes  fol- 
low Jerry-the-Limp  anxiously.  There  might  be 


THE  ENEMY  143 

drinks  for  the  crowd,  for  Jerry's  guile  is  famous. 
All  the  same;  everything! 

A  sudden  nausea  seizes  the  stranger.  He  could 
call  each  of  these  frowsy,  unkempt,  unclean  beasts 
by  their  names,  and  they  would  answer.  These 
had  been  his  friends !  Not  one  of  them  but  is 
as  good  as  he  had  been !  Their  foulness  had  been 
his  foulness!  Bow-Wow!  That  had  been  his 
name  in  this  abhorrent  hole,  this  cess-pool  filled 
with  human  mire!  God!  How  could  Harrison 
Stuart  have  sunk  so  low !  So  far  away  from  Jean 
and  Tavy! 

"Friend  of  Billy's?"  Mike  Dowd.  He  is 
inspecting  the  stranger  with  curiosity. 

"  Very  much  so."  The  stranger  raises  his  glass 
to  his  lips  and  takes  a  contemplative  sip,  his  mind 
filled  with  awe  of  this  place,  and  of  the  unreal- 
like  fact  that  he  could  ever  have  been  a  part  of  it. 
Jerry-the-Limp  leans  against  the  bar  near  by,  and 
moans.  He  pays  no  attention  to  any  one;  just 
moans ! 

"Billy's  a  grand  boy!"  This  from  Mike. 
"  Comes  in  here  two  or  three  times  a  week  for 
some  of  my  special.  I  have  a  barrel  of  the  finest 
old  whisky  on  the  Bowery." 

The  stranger  nods. 

"  Billy  has  friends  everywhere,"  he  says  with  a 


i44  THE  ENEMY 

touch  of  pride.  "  Does  he  always  drink  your 
special?  " 

"  Two  or  three  slugs  every  trip.  He  drank 
what  you're  drinking  to-day.  Are  you  John 
Doe?" 

The  stranger  glances,  startled,  into  the  eyes  of 
big  Mike,  but  he  meets  there  only  the  friendly  in- 
terest of  a  man  who  has  heard  his  praises. 

"  I  am." 

"  St.  Patrick ! "  That  is  only  muttered. 
Mike  Dowd  leans  back  against  his  bar  and  gazes  at 
John  Doe  as  if  he  were  one  risen  from  the  dead, 
and  the  more  he  gazes  the  more  his  wonder  grows. 
"  Glad  to  meet  you,  Mr.  Doe !  "  and  Mike,  re- 
covering from  his  paralysis,  stretches  forward  a 
huge  palm.  "  Billy's  been  telling  me  what  a  won- 
der you  are !  " 

Jerry-the-Limp  moans  and  moans,  his  poor, 
crippled  leg  drawn  up,  his  hand  pressed  to  his  side, 
his  head  bent,  and  his  mouth  piteously  drooped. 
He  is  suffering  intolerable  agony,  is  Jerry-the- 
Limp! 

"  I  did  not  know  that  Billy  was  singing  my 
praises."  This  with  a  trace  of  concern. 

"  It  was  only  by  accident  that  it  started,"  re- 
turns big  Mike,  with  an  eye  on  his  customers,  and  a 
monotonous  evenness  in  his  voice.  "  I  was  in  on  it 


THE  ENEMY  145 

in  the  beginning,  you  know,  and  after  that  I  kept 
asking.  I  ain't  a  bad  fellow,  Doe.  I  like  to  see 
people  do  well,"  then  he  leans  against  the  back 
bar  for  another  long  wondering  gaze.  "  St.  Pat- 
rick! " 

Jerry-the-Limp  suddenly  stops  moaning.  On 
the  ear  of  John  Doe  there  is  a  peculiar  little  bump, 
like  a  small  mole.  On  the  hand  of  John  Doe  there 
is  a  thin  white  scar.  On  the  cheek  of  John  Doe 
just  at  the  side  of  his  nose  and  above  the  neatly 
cropped  mustache,  is  a  small  black  burn  like  a  pow- 
der mark.  The  eyes  of  Jerry-the-Limp  open  in 
unison  with  his  mouth,  his  poor,  crippled  leg 
straightens  down,  his  head  stretches  forward,  and, 
for  a  moment,  he  scarcely  breathes. 

"Bow-Wow!" 

"  You're  a  liar!  "  yells  big  Mike.  Placing  one 
hand  on  the  bar  he  leaps  over  it,  and  by  some 
miracle  of  quick  reaching,  there  is  a  bungstarter  in 
his  hand  when  he  lands! 

Jerry-the-Limp  is  gone,  darting  out  on  the  Bow- 
ery as  swiftly,  with  his  poor  crippled  leg,  as  any 
other  man  could  do  with  two  whole  ones. 

Tank  Tonkey  and  Piggy  Marshall  and  Red 
Whitey  are  standing  stupidly  in  a  row,  and  gaping 
dazedly  at  the  stranger,  but  when  Mike  Dowd 
looks  at  them  they  sit  down  in  a  row. 


i46  THE  ENEMY 

"  Give  them  a  drink,"  and  John  Doe  puts  some 
money  on  the  bar.  He  reaches  out  and  shakes 
hands  with  Mike  Dowd.  "  Thank  you,"  he  says 
gravely,  and  passes  out  into  the  Spring. 

It  is  Spring  in  Vanheuster  Square.  The  an- 
nual blade  of  grass  in  the  northeast  plot  has  come 
up  with  sturdy  persistence,  and  has  been  trampled 
down,  and  is  done  for  the  season.  The  dusty  fir 
tree  has  hopefully  shot  new  tips  of  green  on  its  for- 
lorn branches,  and  on  the  topmost  bough  sits  a  lone 
robin,  that  cheerful  optimist  who  predicted  Spring 
through  all  the  snow  and  rain  and  dreary  fog,  and 
now  he  is  carolling  his  throat  out  in  triumph  that 
his  prediction  has  at  last  come  true. 

There  are  other  signs  of  Spring  in  Vanheuster 
Square.  In  almost  every  window  there  is  bedding 
out  for  convalescence  in  the  balmy  air  and  the  heal- 
ing sun.  But  in  the  fourth  floor  windows  of 
number  seventy-nine  there  is  no  bedding,  there  are 
no  curtains,  there  are  no  shades.  Only  bleak 
emptiness  and  glistening  blackness ! 

"  I  like  the  old  place  after  all."  A  beautiful 
girl  with  shining  black  curls  and  an  oval  face,  and 
wonderful  big  dark  gray  eyes. 

"  You'll  like  the  new  one  better,  Tavy,"  smiles 
the  tall  young  man,  as  they  look  up  at  the  bleak 
windows.  He  is  a  handsome  fellow,  well  set  up, 


THE  ENEMY  147 

broad  shoulders,  clear-eyed,  and  with  a  good  nose, 
jaw  and  chin.  There  are  no  marks  on  him,  as  yet, 
that  he  has  had  any  hurt.  Those  marks  seldom 
come  until  the  damage  has  been  done;  for  nature 
hides  her  own  shame  as  long  as  she  can. 

"  Of  course  we'll  like  the  new  one  better,  Billy," 
replies  Tavy,  her  big  eyes  turning  up  to  him,  and 
as  they  catch  the  blue  of  the  sky,  they  too,  are  blue. 
"  But  we  were  happy  here,  mother  and  I.  I  guess 
because  we  were  so  busy.  Billy,  I  want  to  confess 
something  to  you.  I  miss  our  work." 

"  Tragedy,"  laughs  Billy.  "  Not  having  to 
work  is  the  easiest  thing  in  the  world  to  get  used 
to.  Besides,  there's  your  music,  and  your  French, 
and  all  the  other  things." 

"Wonderful,  isn't  it!"  The  long  curving 
black  lashes  droop  over  the  big  eyes  as  they  muse. 
"  Here  were  we,  slaving  away,  but  cheerful,  be- 
cause mother's  bravery  would  make  any  one  cheer- 
ful, when  along  comes  this  mine  in  which  father 
held  some  mislaid  stock,  and  it's  paying  us  remark- 
ably! Why,  it  gave  us  two  thousand  dollars  last 
month !  Look  at  me !  " 

Would  any  one,  to  say  nothing  of  Billy  Lane, 
need  a  second  invitation  to  look  at  Tavy  Stuart,  as 
she  nears  Billy's  machine  in  sunshiny  Vanheuster 
Square?  She  wears  a  gown  which  has  been  ex- 


i48  THE  ENEMY 

pressly  made  to  fit  her  adorable  little  figure;  and 
such  a  beautiful,  slender,  rounded,  petite  figure  it 
is!  The  gown  itself  is  a  marvelous  creation,  and 
its  materials  and  colors  are  selected  to  be  exactly 
the  thing  which  should  go  with  oval  cheeks,  and  a 
delicately  tinted  complexion,  and  black  ringlets  and 
dark  luminous  eyes,  and  Springtime ! 

Billy  Lane,  thus  boldly  invited  to  look,  does 
look,  and  looks  to  his  heart's  content;  and  there  is 
that  in  his  eyes  which  makes  Tavy  drop  her  own, 
clear  and  steadfast  as  they  are,  and  a  warm  flush 
steals  up  into  her  cheeks.  So  she  climbs  into 
Billy's  car  to  hide  it;  and  what  should  Billy  do  but 
follow  her!  He  is  William  Lane  when  he  looks 
at  his  watch. 

"  We've  loafed  around  this  old  square  for 
nearly  an  hour!  "  he  exclaims,  as  he  starts  the  run- 
about. 

"  Just  because  I  had  to  find  my  poor  little  keep- 
sake gold  piece,"  she  contritely  replies.  Then  she 
laughs.  "  But  anyhow  we  did  find  it." 

"  I'll  send  a  carpenter  up  there  to-morrow  to  re- 
pair the  damage,"  promises  Billy.  "  Suppose  we 
take  Mummy  Stuart  out  the  road  somewhere  for 
dinner?  I've  only  half  a  dozen  letters  to  sign  at 
the  office,  and  then  I'm  free." 

So  to  the  office  they  go,  and  find  Spring  even 


THE  ENEMY  149 

there;  for  the  snub-nosed  city  bred  office  boy  leans 
limply  out  of  the  window,  with  some  wistful 
hereditary  instinct  for  rod  and  line,  and  hook  and 
worm.  Back  into  Billy's  room;  and  Spring  there, 
too.  A  little  branch  of  apple  blossoms  in  a  drink- 
ing-glass  on  his  desk.  The  letters  are  ready,  and 
he  signs  them  in  a  hurry,  Tavy  looking  over  his 
shoulder  and  admiring  his  strong,  free  signature. 
She  is  so  adorable  when  Billy  looks  up  that  he 
drops  his  pen. 

"Tavy!" 

She  begins  to  tremble.  There  is  something  in 
Billy's  tone  which  tells  her  far  more  plainly  than 
words  that  the  inevitable  moment  has  come.  Billy 
is  going  to  propose,  and  it  is  a  very,  very  fluttering 
moment. 

"  Tavy!  "  He  is  on  his  feet  now.  He  is  so 
big  and  so  tall,  so  overwhelming.  Tavy  shrinks  a 
little  from  him,  but  not  far,  not  very  far.  "  I 
love  you !  "  Straight  out  like  that,  no  stammer- 
ing, no  approach,  no  leading  to  the  subject  at  all, 
just  a  plain,  plump  outburst.  He  strides  to  her, 
one  long,  swift  step,  and  the  next  thing  she  knows, 
Tavy  is  in  his  arms,  both  his  arms!  They  are 
wrapped  closely  around  her,  so  tightly  that  she  can 
feel  the  beating  of  his  heart.  Or  is  it  her  own, 
pounding  and  thumping  away  like  that?  She  can 


i5o  THE  ENEMY 

scarcely  breathe.  Her  breath  flutters,  and  her 
cheeks  are  burning.  Now  he  is  kissing  her,  again 
and  again  and  again !  Her  cheeks,  her  brow,  her 
eyes,  her  lips,  and  his  own  are  like  flame.  "  I 
love  you !  I  love  you !  I  love  you !  "  Over  and 
over  he  is  saying  that,  over  and  over,  and  little 
Tavy  presses  limp  in  his  arms;  and  when  his  lips 
seek  hers,  her  lips  cling,  too ! 

A  little  space,  a  space  in  which  the  whirling 
worlds  within  them  readjust  themselves  to  their 
new  spheres,  in  which  Billy  and  Tavy  call  back 
time  and  place  and  season,  and  put  them  in  their 
proper  order;  and  then  Billy,  smiling  down  at  her 
in  wide-eyed  wonder  that  all  this  miracle  could 
have  happened,  kisses  her  once  more  and  reminds 
her  of  something. 

"  You  haven't  answered  me." 

She  darts  a  happy  smile  at  him,  but  there  are 
little  imps  in  her  violet  eyes,  imps  in  her  twinkling 
curls,  imps  in  her  fleeting  dimples,  imps  in  the  curv- 
ing lips;  but  the  lips  are  tightly  closed,  and  she 
hides  her  face  in  his  coat. 

"  I  asked  you  a  question,  and  you  haven't  an- 
swered," insists  Billy  with  great  severity. 

The  flushed  face  reveals  itself  for  a  moment, 
but  all  the  imps  are  still  twinkling  there,  then  the 
oval  cheeks  are  hidden  against  his  coat. 


THE  ENEMY  151 

"  Will  you  marry  me?  " 

Another  flash  of  the  dancing  imps.  She  is  tan- 
talizing, ravishing  —  oh,  everything  wonderful 
which  words  have  not  yet  been  invented  to  express  1 
But  Billy  is  in  a  quandary.  He  ponders  a  long  time 
as  to  how  he  shall  next  go  about  it.  While  he  is 
still  pondering,  Tavy  suddenly  pushes  back  from 
him.  The  imps  are  gone!  The  face  is  sweetly 
serious,  and  the  big  eyes,  steady  and  strong  and 
clear,  are  dark  gray  now.  But  there  is  much  more 
in  them  than  color  —  love  and  truth  and  eternal 
fidelity! 

"  Yes,  Billy,"  she  gravely  says. 

"  No !  "  The  tense,  strong  voice  is  that  of  John 
Doe.  He  stands  in  the  doorway,  and  on  his  face 
there  is  a  look  of  such  horror  that  Tavy  shrinks 
back  into  the  embrace  of  Billy's  arm,  in  terror  at 
this  wild-eyed  stranger.  "  I  would  rather  see  her 
dead!" 


THE   ENCHANTED   PARLOR 

I  WOULD  rather  see  her  dead !  Even  as  his 
own  words  rang  in  his  ears,  the  John  Doe 
who  had  been  Harrison  Stuart  realized,  by 
the  expression  in  his  daughter's  face,  that  he  had 
made  a  mistake.  Perplexity,  fright,  even  resent- 
ment; these  were  normal;  they  were  to  have  been 
expected;  but  not  that  deathless  pledge  which  was 
in  the  luminous  eyes,  as  she  turned  them,  for  an 
instant,  upon  Billy!  Love,  truth,  eternal  fidelity! 
How  well  he  knew  those  qualities  in  Jean;  and 
such  women  are  born  to  suffer ! 

Sickened  at  heart,  he  knew  that  he  could  not  in 
any  way  affect  Tavy,  except  to  pain,  by  the  state- 
ment that  Billy  had  on  him  that  curse  which  might 
render  her  life  as  wretched  as  her  mother's  had 
been.  He  knew  that  his  only  way  to  save  her  was 
to  reveal  himself.  He  did  not  dare !  Why,  only 
within  this  hour,  he  had  endured  a  terrific  battle 
with  that  devil  of  thirst,  which  continuously 
reached  out  its  yellow  clutch  to  drag  him  back  to 

152 


THE  ENEMY  153 

perdition,  to  Mike  Dowd's  Sink,  to  the  kennel,  to 
Bow- Wow ! 

For  a  moment  —  an  eternity  in  seeming,  sec- 
onds in  reality  —  his  eyes  lingered  upon  the  scene, 
and  it  seared  into  his  brain.  The  late  afternoon 
sun,  golden  with  the  warm  glow  of  Spring,  had 
slanted  into  the  little  office,  had  touched  with  a 
mellow  luster  the  soft  brown  graining  of  Billy's 
desk,  had  cast  a  refulgence  like  a  halo  upon  the 
sprig  of  apple  blossoms  in  the  glass,  and  had 
blessed,  with  an  aureole-like  radiance,  Billy  and 
Tavy,  as  they  stood  near  the  window,  Tavy  still 
sheltered  in  Billy's  arm,  and  broad-shouldered 
Billy  turned  sternly  towards  the  intruder.  Tavy! 
In  her  eyes  was  growing  that  same  smoldering 
passion  of  defense,  which  he  remembered  so  well 
in  Jean.  Tavy  had  taken  Billy  to  be  her  own! 
Abruptly  the  old  man  turned  and  was  gone  from 
the  room!  Billy  ran  after  him  into  the  hall,  but 
heard  only  the  click  of  a  descending  elevator. 

"What  was  it,  Billy?  What  did  he  mean?" 
Tavy's  voice  was  trembling. 

"  I  can't  understand  it.  Hal  and  I  are  good 
friends.  There  is  no  reason  for  what  he  said!  " 
Billy  was  more  hurt  than  angry. 

"  Of  course  not !  "  The  answer  was  prompt, 
and  full  of  resentment.  "  But  why  should  he  pre- 


i54  THE  ENEMY 

sume  to  interfere?  What  right  has  he  to  even 
speak  to  me  concerning  you !  Who  is  he  that  he 
can  take  such  liberties?  " 

"  He  must  be  unbalanced  to-day."  Billy  sug- 
gested this  explanation  in  answer  to  his  own  per- 
plexity as  much  as  to  hers.  Who  was  John  Doe  ? 
Tavy's  father,  after  all!  What  had  Billy  done 
for  which  he  could  be  criticized.  The  only  thing 
was  that  little  matter  of  drinking.  Hal  had 
spoken  to  him  several  times  about  that,  but  surely 
he  could  not  hold  it  of  such  importance  as  to  wish 
his  daughter  dead  rather  than  married  to  Billy. 

"  That's  it !  "  Tavy's  troubled  eyes  both 
cleared  and  softened.  "  Do  you  remember  how 
strangely  he  acted  that  first  day  he  saw  me?  He 
must  have  loved  his  daughter  very  much." 

"  Yes,  Tavy."  Billy's  voice  was  very  gentle 
as  he  drew  her  to  him;  and  he  was  very  thought- 
ful of  her,  and  of  Hal,  and  of  many  things,  as 
they  walked  across  to  the  desk.  He  looked  at  his 
watch,  and  took  up  the  'phone.  "  Suppose  we  tell 
Mummy  Stuart  about  that  impromptu  dinner 
party." 

"  Oh,  yes;  do!  "  All  brightness  now,  and  hap- 
piness, nothing  in  her  voice  but  the  joy  of  living. 
So  soon  are  the  tragedies  of  life  forgotten,  when 
one  is  young. 


THE  ENEMY  155 

Billy  asked  for  the  new  number,  which  was  al- 
ready so  familiar.  Tavy  stood  near  him,  and, 
as  he  held  the  'phone,  he  reached  out  and  stole 
his  arm  around  her  slender  waist.  Her  cheeks 
flushed  as  she  nestled  against  him,  but  she  slid  her 
arm  across  his  shoulder,  and  fluffed  his  hair.  She 
had  always  wanted  to  rumple  his  hair.  It  was 
so  wayward  in  its  waviness,  so  stiff  and  uncom- 
promising. 

"  Hello,  Mummy  Stuart,"  he  called  into  the 
'phone.  "  We  want  you  to  drive  out  to  Wood- 
briar  for  dinner.  Will  you  be  ready  when  we 
come  ?  Tavy's  at  the  office  with  me.  We  found 
her  gold  piece.  Say;  we've  something  we  want 
to  tell  you !  The  biggest  bit  of  news  in  the 
world!  We " 

A  small  palm  was  clapped  over  his  mouth.  He 
looked  up  laughing,  and  the  cheeks  of  Tavy  were 
flaming  red.  He  drew  her  hand  away,  and  the 
playful  struggle  which  ensued  ended  with  Tavy 
once  more  in  Billy's  arms,  and  being  kissed  again 
and  again  and  again,  and  being  told  over  and  over 
and  over  how  Billy  loved  her  and  loved  her  and 
loved  herl 

A  voice,  a  woman's  voice,  faint  and  far  distant 
and  strangely  metallic,  finally  penetrated  into  their 
consciousness.  It  was  the  voice  of  Mrs.  Stuart, 


156  THE  ENEMY 

plaintively  saying  "  Hello  "  through  the  telephone 
at  regular  intervals. 

"  Cut  off,"  glibly  apologized  Billy,  with  a  wink 
at  Tavy  and  a  pat  of  the  hand  which  had  done 
the  cutting.  "  We'll  be  home  in  twenty  min- 
utes." 

Billy  fully  meant  that,  but  it  took  five  minutes 
to  put  on  Tavy's  coat  and  to  fasten  it  beneath  her 
piquant  chin;  it  took  five  minutes  more  to  explain 
just  how  it  felt  when  Tavy  looked  at  him  that  first 
day  at  the  door;  and  it  took  an  uncountable  length 
of  time  for  them  to  say  "  good-by,"  as  they  left 
the  little  office,  although  no  one  could  possibly  ex- 
plain why  they  should  need  to  say  good-by  when 
they  were  both  leaving  at  once,  and  together,  and 
bound  for  the  same  destination.  Queer;  wasn't 
it?  Neither  of  them  thought  of  John  Doe  again. 

What  a  wonderful  ride  that  was  to  the  new 
Stuart  apartments!  The  world  was  such  a  de- 
lightful place,  so  cheerful,  and  bright  and  happy! 
Everybody  in  the  streets  seemed  gay,  and  in  the 
very  air  there  was  a  sort  of  limpid  ecstasy,  much 
as  if  the  glory  of  the  millennium  had  suddenly  burst 
open  the  earth  and  made  all  humanity  kind.  How 
balmy  was  the  breeze  of  Spring!  How  beautiful 
was  the  evening  sky,  reddening  now  to  a  glorified 
dusk !  On  the  river,  as  they  whirled  up  the  Drive, 


THE  ENEMY  157 

were  the  white  hulls  of  a  hundred  craft,  trailing 
their  wraith-like  streamers  of  pearl  gray  smoke 
against  the  soft  roseate  of  the  west,  and  reflecting 
their  graceful  outlines  in  the  glistening  river,  it- 
self aglow  with  dancing  coral  tints.  It  was  a 
fairy  land,  and  even  those  tall,  prosaic  smoke 
stacks  on  the  Jersey  shore  were  a  part  of  the  en- 
chanted scene.  That  is  what  it  is  to  be  in  love, 
when  one  is  young!  Why,  in  all  the  world  there 
is  nothing  but  beauty !  just  beauty ! 

Here  is  the  enchanted  apartment  house,  with 
an  enchanted  doorman  in  an  enchanted  marble 
lobby;  and  here  is  the  enchanted  elevator,  run  by 
an  enchanted  elevator  boy,  with  twenty-four  brass 
buttons  on  his  coat,  and  a  blue  bruise,  probably 
put  there  by  enchantment,  under  one  eye.  Here 
is  the  enchanted  suite,  and  here,  too,  is  the  en- 
chanted Mummy  Stuart,  already  dressed  for  her 
drive  in  her  new  gray  silk,  which  is  so  becoming 
to  that  high-piled  gray  coiffeur.  A  rather  stately 
woman,  is  Mrs.  Stuart,  and  one  whom  any  fastidi- 
ous young  man  might  well  be  proud  to  have  as  his 
guest  at  Woodbriar.  Money  is  not  such  a  bad 
thing  after  all.  It  cannot  be  altogether  bad  when 
it  will  coax  the  delicate  tint  of  health  to  pallid 
cheeks,  when  it  will  smooth  away  lines  of  worry 
from  careworn  brows,  when  it  will  bring  the 


158  THE  ENEMY 

sparkle  of  renewed  anticipation  to  eyes  which  have 
been  all  too  patient. 

"  You're  late,"  accused  Mummy  Stuart,  smiling 
on  the  two  truants  as  they  came  bubbling  into  the 
pretty  little  parlor.  "  What  have  you  been  doing 
all  this  time?" 

That  was  so  direct  a  question,  so  apropos,  so 
remindful  of  so  many  things,  that  Billy  and  Tavy, 
much  against  their  wills,  looked  at  each  other,  and 
laughed  aloud,  and  both  blushed.  Then  Tavy 
suddenly  hid  her  face  on  her  mother's  shoulder. 

Mrs.  Stuart  paled,  and  glanced  swiftly  at  Billy, 
and  clasped  her  daughter  in  her  arms,  and 
smoothed  her  tight  black  curls.  Billy  Lane  found 
himself  left  out  of  that  tableau,  which  was  not  as 
it  should  be;  so  Mrs.  Stuart,  with  her  cheek  bent 
against  that  curly  head,  suddenly  felt  a  strong 
arm  steal  around  her,  and  glanced  swiftly  up  to 
find  the  clear,  manly  gaze  of  Billy  beaming  fondly 
down  upon  them  both. 

"  Kiss  your  future  son,  Mummy,"  invited  the 
brazen  Billy,  with  his  most  friendly  grin,  but  only 
his  words  were  flippant;  tone  and  look  were  ten- 
der. Into  Mrs.  Stuart's  eyes  had  again  come  that 
patience,  and  there  was  moisture  on  her  lashes; 
but  she  smiled  to  Billy.  She  patted  his  hand  as 
she  unwound  his  arm  from  her  waist.  She  liked 


THE  ENEMY  159 

Billy.  She  had  liked  him  from  the  first,  very 
much.  He  was  the  sort  of  young  man  who  could 
be  trusted.  She  walked  away  with  Tavy  into 
the  adjoining  room,  and  closed  the  door.  Tavy 
did  not  look  back.  She  was  very,  very  quiet,  and 
held  closely  to  her  mother.  They  had  been  much 
more  than  mother  and  daughter,  these  two,  in  the 
past  fifteen  years;  they  had  been  companions,  and 
partners,  and  friends,  very  close  and  very  dear 
friends. 

They  were  gone  a  long,  long  time,  and  before 
they  returned,  Billy,  all  alone  in  the  dainty  gray  and 
pink  parlor,  began  to  feel  disproportionately  big, 
and  brutal,  and  generally  contemptible.  It  was 
all  very  gay  and  exhilarating  to  win  a  sweet  and 
beautiful  girl  like  Tavy,  but,  after  all,  there  was 
a  serious  side  to  it.  He  couldn't  expect  Mrs. 
Stuart  to  look  on  him  with  a  happy  eye.  She'd 
be  left  alone,  even  if  she  came  to  live  with  them;  as 
of  course  she  would.  Dog-gone  it,  he  was  selfish, 
and  yet —  Suddenly  he  laughed.  Why,  Mrs. 
Stuart  would  shortly  be  about  the  happiest  woman 
in  the  world!  When  Harrison  Stuart  was  quite 
sure  of  himself,  Billy  would  have  the  extreme 
pleasure  of  leading  that  finely  rehabilitated  gentle- 
man to  the  door,  and  presenting  him,  as  Billy's 
own  gift,  to  Tavy's  mother.  He  guessed  that 


160  THE  ENEMY 

would  about  square   accounts!     He  could  have 
Tavy  with  a  clear  conscience. 

Again  he  felt  a  pang  of  selfishness.  He  had  a 
most  uncomfortable  conscience.  Here  he  was 
planning  his  own  pleasure  out  of  that  re-union; 
here  he  was,  bathed  in  the  ecstatic  happiness  of 
having  secured  the  most  wonderful  girl  in  the 
world  for  his  own,  and  somewhere  Harrison 
Stuart,  Tavy's  father  and  Mrs.  Stuart's  husband, 
was  sitting  by  himself  eating  his  heart  out.  Billy 
felt  rotten !  By  George,  now  he  understood  why 
Hal  had  made  such  a  queer  break,  up  in  the  office ! 
It  was  rather  a  hard  jolt  for  a  father  who  has 
spent  every  waking  minute  waiting  for  the  time 
when  he  could  fold  his  long-lost  little  girl  in  his 
arms,  to  find  that  a  big  hulk  of  a  young  man  was 
taking  her  away  before  that  joy  could  ever  occur! 
Why,  by  the  time  Harrison  Stuart  came  to  the  day 
of  his  glorious  re-union,  he  wouldn't  have  any  little 
girl;  there  would  be  no  Tavy;  there  would  only 
be  a  Mrs.  Billy  Lane !  Of  course  Hal  had  worded 
the  thing  a  little  strongly,  but  no  wonder !  Billy 
felt  more  and  more  rotten.  He  guessed  he'd  call 
Hal  up,  and  he  went  into  the  vestibule  to  do  it; 
but  just  then  Mrs.  Stuart  and  Tavy  returned  to 
the  parlor,  and  Billy  Lane,  with  startling  sudden- 
ness, forgot  all  about  lonely  Harrison  Stuart,  sit- 


THE  ENEMY  161 

ting  in  the  big  chair  by  the  fireplace,  gazing  mo- 
tionlessly  into  the  dark  corner,  where  the  logs  of 
winter  had  cast  forth  their  ruddy  glow. 

Mrs.  Stuart  walked  straight  up  to  Billy,  and 
held  out  her  hand,  and,  as  he  took  it,  she  gazed 
long  and  searchingly  into  his  eyes. 

"  You'll  be  good  to  my  little  Tavy,  always," 
she  said  simply,  and  the  young  man,  looking  down 
at  her,  and  feeling  mean  and  small,  somehow,  be- 
cause he  was  robbing  her  of  so  much,  gulped  that 
he  would ;  and  he  meant  it  from  the  bottom  of  his 
heart.  He  meant  it! 

Tavy  knew  that  he  meant  it,  too.  There  she 
stood,  her  dark  violet  eyes  sparkling  up  at  him, 
and  full  of  such  supreme  trust  and  confidence  in 
him  that  once  again  Billy  felt  humble  and  awk- 
ward. Why,  it  was  a  frightening  thing  to  be- 
come sacredly  responsible  for  so  helplessly  a 
beautiful  creature  I  Her  long  lashes  curved  down 
over  her  eyes,  and  they  glistened  slightly  as  they 
flashed  in  the  light.  There  had  been  moisture 
upon  them.  Billy  was  silent  for  some  moments  in 
the  contemplation  of  the  marvelous  change  which 
had  come  over  his  thoughts  and  his  life.  He  was 
responsible  for  an  immense  amount  to  these  two 
women,  and,  by  George,  he'd  prove  himself  worthy 
of  the  responsibility ! 


1 62  THE  ENEMY 

"  Would  you  rather  go  out  to  Wimbol's  Inn?  " 
he  asked. 

Both  ladies  laughed.  It  was  a  relief  to  hear 
him. 


CHAPTER  XV 

A  FAMILY  POW-WOW 

TOMMY  TINKLE,  alone  in  his  room  at 
the  club,  was  the  first  to  receive  the  glori- 
ous news,  and  Tommy  Tinkle  was  de- 
lighted with  Billy's  good  fortune.  There  was  a 
sincere  handclasp,  a  moment  of  serious  and  earnest 
congratulation,  and  then  Tommy  was  his  old  cheer- 
ful self  again.  If  he  had  reflected  sadly  that  he 
was  soon  to  lose  his  life-long  companionship  with 
Billy,  he  betrayed  no  sign  of  it;  and  if  there  were 
shattered  dreams  which  Billy's  joy  had  brought  to 
mind,  there  was  no  shadow  of  them  to  be  seen 
on  his  broad  face.  His  wide  grin  had  still  in  it 
that  familiar  whimsicality,  as,  at  Billy's  command, 
he  put  on  his  hat. 

In  the  tap-room  were  Sam  Langster  and  Jack 
Greeves  and  Bert  Hasselton.  Billy  stopped  long 
enough  to  buy  them  a  bottle  of  wine,  while  Tommy 
broke  the  news,  and  the  boys  joined  thoroughly 
in  Billy's  happiness,  so  thoroughly  that  he  bought 

163 


1 64  THE  ENEMY 

a  second  bottle  before  he  and  Tommy  went  out 
into  the  night. 

It  was  a  glorious  world,  full  of  nothing  but 
pleasure!  It  was  a  world  full  of  friends,  full 
of  opportunities,  full  of  triumphs,  full  of  bliss! 
Possibly  there  were  such  things  as  tragedies,  but 
those  were  remote  and  to  be  expressed  only  in 
words,  like  the  bombastic  sentiments  of  a  school- 
boy. They  were  unreal,  and  by  no  means  to  be 
written  in  heart's  blood.  Only  happiness  was  real ; 
happiness  and  love ! 

They  took  a  long  drive  in  the  fresh  night  air, 
Billy  not  caring  particularly  where  they  went.  It 
was  a  beautifully  clear  night.  The  sky  was  white 
with  stars,  and  a  great  round  moon  rode  straight 
overhead,  casting  down  upon  the  river  a  thousand 
glinting  jewels.  With  brave  unconsciousness, 
Billy  had  quite  naturally  chosen  the  Drive,  since 
that  led  him  past  the  Stuart  apartments,  where  the 
enchanted  doorman  stood  in  the  enchanted  marble 
lobby,  accepting  a  cigarette  from  the  enchanted 
elevator  boy.  Billy  did  not  know  that  the  skies 
were  clear,  that  the  moon  was  shining,  that  the 
river  was  gleaming  and  dancing  under  the  silver 
radiance.  He  was  talking,  and  all  the  burden  of 
his  conversation  was  just  Tavy!  Tommy  Tinkle, 
politely  suppressing  that  whimsical  grin,  listened 


THE  ENEMY  165 

piously,  and  even  threw  in  an  occasional  remark 
to  draw  his  friend  on.  Good  old  Tommy ! 

It  was  one  o'clock  when  they  reached  the  apart- 
ments, and  Tommy  decided  to  run  up  and  say 
"  Howdy  "  to  Hal,  if  he  were  still  awake. 

Hal!  Billy's  conscience  gave  him  a  tremen- 
dous twinge.  Half  a  dozen  times,  during  the  din- 
ner at  Woodbriar,  and  on  the  way  home,  and  on 
the  way  to  the  club  to  pick  up  Tommy,  he  had 
given  a  fleeting  thought  to  Tavy's  father,  but,  for 
the  most  part,  he  had  forgotten  Hal.  Selfish  of 
him ;  rotten  selfish ! 

There  were  no  lights  in  the  big  lounging-room, 
when  Billy  and  Tommy  entered,  nor  was  there 
any  fitful  red  glow  in  the  wide  fireplace.  Silhou- 
etted against  the  window,  however,  was  a  bent 
figure,  sitting  so  motionless  that  at  first  they 
thought  Hal  must  be  asleep.  As  the  lights  flashed 
up  the  old  man  turned,  and  his  face  was  haggard. 

"  I'm  glad  you  came,  Tommy."  The  voice  was 
husky  and  the  eyes  were  feverish.  "  I  have  some- 
thing to  say  to  Billy  which  I  wish  you  to  hear." 

Lane's  head  was  up  in  an  instant. 

"  If  it's  in  relation  to  what  you  said  in  the  office 
this  afternoon,  I'd  like  to  have  Tommy  hear  it, 
too.  Frankly,  Hal,  I  could  not  understand  you. 
What  have  I  done?" 


1 66  THE  ENEMY 

"  Asked  my  daughter  to  marry  you." 

Billy's  face  flushed,  but  perplexity  still  struggled 
with  his  rising  anger. 

"  Of  course  I  did.  I  had  every  right  to  do  so." 
He  turned  to  Tommy.  "  It  is  perhaps  as  well  to 
tell  you,  Tommy,  that  Miss  Stuart  is  Hal's  daugh- 
ter." 

"  I  had  gathered  as  much."  Tommy  had  stood 
by  the  door,  with  his  hat  and  gloves  in  his  hand. 
Now  he  put  them  on  the  table,  and  sat  down.  He 
lit  a  cigarette,  and  prepared  himself  for  a  most 
disagreeable  task. 

"Just  why  should  I  not  marry  Tavy?  "  de- 
manded Billy. 

"  There  is  the  reason !  "  and  the  old  man  pointed 
to  the  decanter  on  the  table.  "  I'd  rather  see  her 
dead  than  married  to  a  drunkard  1  " 

"  See  here !  "  Billy's  voice  was  shaking  with 
anger.  "  You've  gone  too  far  with  this  thing, 
Stuart!  I  can  quite  understand  that,  because  of 
your  own  experience,  you  should  have  an  exag- 
gerated dread  of  whisky,  but  that  you  should 
stretch  that  attitude  so  far  as  to  call  me  a  drunkard 
is  more  than  I  have  patience  for." 

"  Any  man  who  neglects  his  business  because 
he's  intoxicated,  who  becomes  drunk  time  after 
time,  and  is  surprised  that  it  happened,  and  who 


THE  ENEMY  167 

still  clings  to  whisky,  is  a  drunkard,  or  bids  fair 
to  become  one,"  retorted  Stuart.  "  I  have 
watched  you  day  after  day,  Billy.  You  have  been 
going  exactly  the  path  I  went,  to  the  last  minute 
step.  You  have  exactly  the  same  kind  and  de- 
gree of  craving  which  I  had  at  your  stage  of  de- 
velopment as  a  drinker;  and  there  is  no  salvation 
for  you  unless  you  put  whisky  absolutely  out  of 
your  life!  " 

"  I'll  never  do  it!  "  Billy's  jaws  were  squared 
and  his  lips  compressed.  The  decanter  stood  near 
him.  Entirely  unconscious  of  the  fact  that  it  was 
this  very  thing  of  which  they  were  talking,  he 
poured  himself  a  drink,  and  pushed  the  decanter 
over  to  Tommy.  Tommy  watched  him  curiously. 
Billy,  still  unaware  of  what  he  was  doing,  swal- 
lowed his  drink.  "  I  shall  not  relinquish  my  con- 
trol of  any  factor  which  enters  into  my  life,"  he 
declared,  as  he  set  down  his  glass. 

"Then  you  shall  never  marry  Tavy!  "  The 
old  man  was  as  steady  now  as  Billy,  and  there  was 
as  much  determination  in  his  voice.  He  stood  tall 
and  straight,  and  his  white  face  was  rigid. 

"What  will  you  do  to  prevent  it?"  There 
was  insolence  in  that  tone,  the  insolence  of  youth 
and  strength,  but  it  was  excused  by  Billy's  thor- 
ough belief  in  himself  and  his  rectitude. 


i68  THE  ENEMY 

"  I  don't  know,"  returned  Stuart  musingly. 
"  I  have  been  thinking  of  that  and  of  nothing 
else  ever  since  I  left  the  office.  I  shall  do  some- 
thing, however,  when  the  time  comes.  If  I  have 
wasted  my  life  and  theirs,  I  shall  see  that  they 
run  no  further  chance  of  distress.  I  can  do  that 
much  at  least,"  and  there  was  the  light  of  a  grow- 
ing fanaticism  in  his  eyes. 

Billy  gazed  at  him  a  moment  incredulously. 

"  I  hadn't  expected  this  of  you,  Stuart." 

"  It  does  look  like  ingratitude,"  admitted  the 
older  man.  "  You  brought  me  back  from  worse 
than  death;  you  gave  me  a  chance  to  be  a  man; 
you  found  my  family  for  me;  you  are  making  it 
possible  for  me  to " 

"  Forget  that,"  interrupted  Billy.  "  We  are 
not  discussing  favors  nor  obligations." 

"  I  must !  "  Stuart's  voice  was  strained  and 
tense.  "  It  is  because  I  owe  you  so  much  that  this 
day  has  brought  me  such  pain.  As  I  have  watched 
you,  Billy,  I  have  become  more  and  more  con- 
cerned for  you;  but  now  the  tragedy  is  so  much 
greater  since  it  affects  my  daughter.  Billy,  if 
only  you  were  free  from  this  one  danger,  I  would 
gladly  lay  Tavy's  hand  in  yours,  and  close  my  eyes 
in  peace.  I  have  only  one  hope:,  to  convince  you 
of  your  position.  Tommy,  you  know  Billy  well; 


THE  ENEMY  169 

you  have  known  him  all  your  life.  You  have  seen 
him  year  after  year.  Tell  me  frankly;  have  you 
ever  worried  about  his  drinking?  " 

"  Yes."  Tommy  glowered  at  Stuart.  "  Billy, 
I  had  intended  to  talk  with  you  myself,  but  after 
what  you  told  me  to-night,  I  decided  that  you 
wouldn't  need  to  talk." 

"  That's  right,  Tommy."  Billy's  pleasure  in 
Tommy's  opinion  was  boyishly  frank.  "  Why, 
Stuart,  I  wouldn't  cause  Tavy  a  moment's  distress 
for  anything  in  the  world !  "  His  voice  had  sud- 
denly grown  kind.  "  I  don't  blame  you  for  being 
excessively  afraid  of  the  thing  which  destroyed 
you ;  but  you  mustn't  let  it  warp  your  judgment." 

"  I  don't."  Stuart  shook  his  head  sadly. 
"  I've  seen  Tommy  drinking  nearly  as  often  as 
you,  but  I  know  that  Tommy  is  in  no  danger.  He 
will  go  through  life  just  as  he  is  now.  You  won't. 
You're  one  of  us,  one  of  those  who  dare  not  touch 
whisky,  and  the  signs  are  as  plain  to  my  .eye  as 
the  mark  on  the  brow  of  Cain.  Listen,  Billy. 
You  are  the  last  man  on  earth  against  whom  I 
could  hold  enmity  or  against  whom  I  would  wish 
to  be  unjust;  but,  until  you  have  shown  me  that 
you  are  permanently  stronger  than  this  stuff,  you 
must  never  marry  Tavy !  " 

"  That's   something   we    can    agree    on,"    and 


1 70  THE  ENEMY 

Billy,  laughing  good  naturedly,  walked  over  and 
extended  his  hand  to  the  old  man.  There  was  a 
tremendous  appeal  in  Billy.  He  was  a  big,  fine 
looking  boy,  and  his  smile  was  so  contagious  that 
it  had  smoothed  all  paths  for  him.  Stuart  studied 
him  a  moment  doubtfully,  then  he  shook  hands. 

"  That's  a  bargain,  Billy,"  he  granted. 

"  Then  let's  change  the  subject,"  offered  Tommy 
Tinkle,  in  tremendous  relief.  "  These  family 
pow-wows  drive  me  to  drink,"  and  he  reached  out 
for  the  decanter. 

At  day-break,  the  long  suffering  Tommy  was 
sitting  huddled  in  the  big  library  chair,  with  his 
eyes  half  open,  while  in  his  ears  was  being  regu- 
larly thumped,  Tavy  —  Tavy  —  Tavy  —  Tavy ! 

There  was  no  sleep  in  Billy,  though.  When 
Tommy  Tinkle,  unable  to  keep  his  ears  or  eyes 
open  any  longer,  tumbled  in  for  a  good  long  sleep, 
Billy  went  to  his  desk  and  plunged  into  work. 
He'd  have  to  pay  stricter  attention  to  business 
now.  It  meant  something  when  a  fellow  was  go- 
ing to  be  married!  And  he'd  watch  that  little 
matter  of  drink!  He  had  been  rather  careless 
of  late,  but  his  days  of  bachelor  irresponsibility 
were  over!  By  George,  he  owed  it  to  Tavy  to  be- 
come a  solid,  substantial  citizen,  like  Three-B 
Benning.  Geraldine.  His  conscience  rather  hurt 


THE  ENEMY  171 

him  about  Geraldine.  He  hadn't  been  around  to 
see  her  for  —  let's  see.  How  long  was  it?  He'd 
send  her  some  roses  in  the  morning,  and,  soon  as 
he  found  time,  he'd  run  out  and  tell  her  the  glad 
news.  She'd  be  tickled,  of  course.  A  fellow  was 
mighty  lucky  to  have  a  chum  like  Geraldine. 

At  seven  o'clock  Billy  locked  away  his  work, 
and  called  Burke,  and  enjoyed  a  hearty  splash  and 
a  healthy  breakfast,  and,  fresh  of  garment  and 
keen  of  eye,  went  down  to  the  Pannard  Building. 
He  accomplished  perfect  prodigies  of  labor  that 
morning;  and,  at  noon,  he  went  up  on  the  avenue 
to  buy  a  ring !  He  was  so  frankly  delighted  with 
that  task,  that  the  head  of  the  diamond  depart- 
ment came  over  and  spent  twenty  minutes  with 
him  in  selecting  the  jewel  of  the  finest  cutting  and 
color.  Then  Billy,  with  the  ring  in  his  pocket, 
whirled  gaily  up  to  the  enchanted  apartment,  and 
put  the  ring  on  Tavy's  finger,  where  it  glowed  and 
sparkled  and  flashed  as  a  symbol  of  their  never- 
ending  happiness. 

Billy  had  only  a  minute  in  the  enchanted  apart- 
ments. He  was  very  busy,  oh,  tremendously 
busy;  and  all  four  of  the  dainty  little  rooms 
seemed  to  vibrate  and  crackle  and  tingle  from  the 
verve  of  him.  He  enjoyed  a  laughing  little  ban- 
ter with  Mummy  Stuart,  now  quite  proud  of  her 


172  THE  ENEMY 

handsome  big  son-in-law-to-be,  and  he  made  an 
engagement  with  them  for  the  theater  that  night, 
and  he  enjoyed  an  ecstatic  five  minutes  or  so  alone 
with  Tavy,  or  was  it  ten,  or  maybe  fifteen;  then 
he  rushed  away,  like  a  racing  aeroplane,  for  a 
plunge  into  business  again. 

At  the  club  the  aeroplane  hesitated,  hovered, 
then  came  down  for  a  few  minutes  —  just  a  brief 
little  run-in,  to  order  tickets. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

A  LITTLE  GAIETY  FOR  TAVY 

t4'^  T"OU  are  like  sunshine  in  a  garden,  child," 

I        exclaimed  Mrs.  Stuart,  as  she  received 

•*•       Geraldine  in  the  dainty  pink  and  gray 

parlor.     She  had  a  keen  love  of  bright  color, 

which  had  found  its  expression  in  the  gay  little 

court  dolls  she  had  made  down  in  Vanheuster 

Square,  and  Geraldine's  afternoon  frocks  always 

delighted  her. 

"  I  feel  like  a  spring  bonnet,"  laughed  Geral- 
dine, looking  down  at  the  rose  silk,  and  once  more 
deciding  that  its  becomingness  quite  excused  its 
brightness.  She  sat  by  the  window  and  glanced 
out  at  the  shimmering  river.  The  trees  along  the 
Palisades  were  beginning  to  feather  out,  and  their 
greenness  to-day,  for  the  first  time,  was  visible 
from  this  distance.  A  trace  of  speculation  came 
into  Geraldine's  eyes.  "  It's  a  beautiful  after- 
noon. I  thought  that  perhaps  Tavy  might  care 
to  go  for  a  drive." 

"  I  don't  know  that  she  has  any  engagement  for 
173 


i74  THE  ENEMY 

the  afternoon,"  considered  Mrs.  Stuart  content- 
edly. "  She  can't  stay  out  late  because  we  are  go- 
ing to  the  theater  this  evening." 

Geraldine's  lashes  drooped  for  the  most  in- 
finitesimal flash  of  time.  She  knew  quite  well  with 
whom  they  were  going. 

"  I'll  bring  her  back  at  four-thirty,"  she  gaily 
promised.  "  That  will  give  her  time  for  the  nap 
to  make  her  especially  beautiful  for  the  evening; 
although  Tavy  doesn't  need  it." 

"  That's  pretty  of  you."  Mrs.  Stuart  smiled 
with  pleasure.  "  However,  I  don't  believe  Tavy 
will  need  it  to-night." 

Again  that  infinitesimal  flicker  of  the  lashes.  A 
clumsy  river  steamer  was  churning  down  stream, 
a  broad,  glistening  white  blot  on  the  water,  and 
Geraldine  watched  its  slow  progress  as  interest- 
edly as  if  it  were  laden  with  a  life-time  of  pleas- 
ure for  her. 

"  How  much  stronger  you  are  looking  than 
when  I  first  met  you,  Mrs.  Stuart.  The  air  seems 
wonderfully  good  up  here." 

"  I  don't  think  it's  air  so  much  as  just  solid 
happiness,"  returned  Mrs.  Stuart,  and  her  gaze 
strayed  to  the  huge  basket  of  white  lilacs  which 
hung  in  the  bay  window. 

A  little  twitch  in  the  trimly  gloved  wrist  of 


THE  ENEMY  175 

Geraldine,  where  it  lay  on  the  arm  of  the  chair. 
She  knew  that  type  of  basket.  One  of  Billy's 
tricks.  There  was  an  ornate  box  of  candy  on  the 
table.  Geraldine  knew  every  piece  in  it;  a  Billy 
special.  That  particular  assortment  was  known 
in  the  crowd.  His  imagination  did  not  run  to 
variations  in  candy.  Billy !  Billy !  Billy !  There 
were  evidences  of  him  everywhere !  The  hand  on 
the  arm  of  the  chair  contracted.  Up  the  river  — 

"  Hello,  Geraldine !  I  didn't  know  you  were 
here."  Tavy;  in  a  quaint,  stiff  little  pompadour 
taffeta.  She  was  beautiful;  stunningly  beautiful, 
with  her  exquisitely  tinted  complexion,  and  her 
glowing  dark  eyes,  and  her  dancing  black  curls. 
There  was  a  new  sparkle  about  her  to-day,  a  new 
vivacity.  It  was  as  if  the  sly  little  imps  had 
slipped  out  from  those  glossy  ringlets,  and  turning 
demure,  had  taken  complete  possession  of  her, 
glinting  and  glimmering  everywhere,  from  the 
pointed  toes  of  her  little  patent  leather  slippers, 
from  .  .  .  There  was  a  sudden  flash  like  crimson 
fire,  as  Tavy  reached  forward  her  hands  in  greet- 
ing, and  it  was  then  that  Geraldine  saw  the  ring; 
Billy's  ring ! 

"  How  sweet  you  look !  "  exclaimed  Geraldine, 
rising  to  take  the  outstretched  hands,  and  she  kissed 
Tavy  impulsively.  She  spoke  with  exaggerated 


176  THE  ENEMY 

animation,  and  her  voice  was  just  the  slightest  de- 
gree sharper  and  higher  in  pitch  than  usual.  "  I 
want  to  take  you  for  a  drive.  Will  you  come?  " 

"  Indeed  I  will."  Tavy's  voice  is  more  ani- 
mated, too,  but  it  is  not  a  shade  sharper  or  higher 
in  tone.  If  anything  it  is  softer  and  sweeter.  A 
great  happiness  has  come  to  Tavy,  and  it  has  made 
her  better  in  every  way,  as  happiness  must,  for  only 
they  can  be  happy  who  are  made  better  by  it. 

Tavy  sat  in  the  bay  between  her  mother  and 
Geraldine,  and  inspected  the  new  rose  silk  with 
frank  admiration. 

"  The  country  must  be  wonderful  now,  with  all 
the  trees  in  blossom,"  she  observed,  but  that  the 
country  was  not  strong  in  her  mind  was  evidenced 
by  the  fact  that,  in  spite  of  herself,  her  eyes  strayed 
to  the  sparkling  diamond  on  her  finger.  For  the 
past  two  hours  she  had  been  practicing  at  not  be- 
ing over-conscious  of  it. 

Mrs.  Stuart's  eyes  strayed  to  the  ring,  in  spite 
of  herself.  It  was  such  a  beautiful  stone,  so  clear, 
so  alive  with  a  thousand  iridescences. 

Geraldine's  eyes  strayed  to  the  ring.  There 
was  no  avoiding  the  thing!  It  filled  the  room! 
Its  radiance  blotted  out  the  possibility  of  viewing 
anything  else;  its  radiance  and  its  illuminative 
significance!  Geraldine  laughed,  and,  reaching 


THE  ENEMY  177 

over,  touched  the  glittering  solitaire,  then  she 
shook  her  finger  playfully  at  Tavy. 

"  Confess !  "  she  demanded. 

Tavy  blushed  furiously.  Her  mother  laughed 
happily. 

"  There's  no  use  trying  to  hide  it,  Tavy,"  she 
counselled. 

"Billy!"  charged  Geraldine,  and  Tavy  shyly 
dropped  her  eyes;  but  her  head  nodded,  and  every 
one  of  the  little  black  curls  danced. 

"  I  knew  you'd  take  our  Billy  away  from  us," 
chattered  on  Geraldine,  with  that  queer  little  ac- 
centuation of  pitch  and  tone  in  her  voice.  "  Our 
crowd  will  never  quite  forgive  you,  but  they  won't 
blame  Billy.  I  don't  see  how  he  could  help  him- 
self." 

"  Have  some  candy,"  invited  little  Tavy  de- 
murely, but  the  imps  were  dancing  in  her  violet 
eyes. 

"  A  Billy  special."  Geraldine  selected  a  con- 
fection. "  This  one  has  cocoanut  in  it,  and  that 
one  pistache,  and  the  big  square  one  fruit  cake. 
You're  very  much  to  be  envied,  Tavy.  You'll 
have  exactly  this  assortment  of  candy  all  your 
life." 

Tavy  merely  smiled. 

"  Billy  always  knows  how  to  please."     If  she 


178  THE  ENEMY 

had  suddenly  made  up  her  mind  to  vary  Billy's 
candy  selection,  she  kept  that  decision  entirely  to 
herself. 

*  Yes,  he  has  excellent  taste,"  agreed  Geraldine 
instantly.  "  He  went  with  father  to  help  choose 
these  sapphires  for  my  birthday,  and  he  added 
this  little  purse  for  his  own  gift.  Isn't  it  neat?  " 

"  Exquisite."  Tavy  took  the  purse,  and  ex- 
amined it  with  all  the  appreciation  which  was  ex- 
pected of  her.  "  I'll  slip  on  my  bonnet  and  be 
with  you  in  a  minute." 

"  Excuse  me,  please,  Geraldine,"  begged  Mrs. 
Stuart,  and  with  a  smile  of  hearty  friendliness,  she 
trotted  out  after  her  daughter.  It  was  such  a  joy 
to  expend  on  Tavy  the  dainty  care  she  had  exer- 
cised in  the  dressing  of  the  gay  little  dolls. 

So  Billy  had  reached  his  goal  at  last !  His  fev- 
ered race  was  run,  and  now  he  could  pause  to  hear 
the  voices  by  the  wayside.  A  young  man  in  love 
is  headstrong.  There  is  no  stopping  him  until 
he  has  reached  his  goal.  Geraldine  looked  out 
upon  the  broad  river,  but  the  current  of  her 
thoughts  ran  deeper  than  the  stream.  Three 
months  she  had  waited  for  Billy  to  become  en- 
gaged to  his  Octavia  Stuart.  Tavy ! 

"  If  you're  to  marry  Billy,  you  must  become 
better  acquainted  with  all  his  friends,"  Geraldine 


THE  ENEMY  179 

chatted,  as,  with  the  primly  bonneted  and  gowned 
Tavy  by  her  side,  she  whirled  up  the  Drive,  and 
into  the  back  road,  and  around  the  long,  sweeping 
wooded  curves,  where  the  great  gray  castles  of  the 
modern  barons  have  raised  their  stone  turrets  in 
frowning  guardianship  of  the  Hudson.  "  I  must 
arrange  parties  for  you,  teas  for  you  to  meet  all 
the  girls,  and  dances  for  the  boys." 

That  was  an  interesting  conversation,  the  plan- 
ning of  all  this  brilliant  incursion  into  social  ac- 
tivity. The  world  seemed  to  have  become  very 
wide  and  beautiful  since  Billy  had  opened  the 
door,  and  it  was  a  flushed  and  excited  little  Tavy 
who  came  back  to  the  enchanted  apartments,  quite 
soon  after  four-thirty,  to  take  her  beauty  nap. 

There  was  no  more  sleep,  however,  in  the  big 
dark  eyes  than  there  had  been  in  Billy's  the  night 
before.  Mrs.  Stuart  herself  drew  the  blinds  in 
the  delf-like  blue  and  white  cretonne  room,  and 
covered  her  grown-up  daughter  to  the  chin  with 
a  fluffy  blue  and  white  coverlet,  and  tip-toed 
away;  but  she  was  called  back  before  she  had  quite 
closed  the  door,  and  was  hauled  down  on  the  edge 
of  the  bed,  and  was  talked  to  most  volubly  for  the 
full  half-hour  of  the  allotted  nap  time.  There 
was  so  much  to  talk  about,  with  all  these  gay 
parties  coming  on.  She  hoped  that  Billy's  friends 


i8o  THE  ENEMY 

would  like  her;  and  Mrs.  Stuart  smiled  happily 
over  that  absurd  trace  of  worry  in  Tavy's  tone. 

Now  began  the  bustle  and  excitement  of  making 
ready  for  the  theater.  There  was  a  brand  new 
gown  of  black  lace  for  Mummy  Stuart,  ordered  in 
defiance  of  her  wistful  protest,  and  this  was  to  be 
its  very  first  wearing.  For  Tavy  there  was  a 
pearl-white  gown  of  soft  chiffon,  quite  simply 
made,  and  needing  no  other  adornment  than  the 
sloping  shoulders,  and  the  graceful  neck,  and  the 
superbly  beautiful  head  of  Tavy  herself.  Such 
innocent  pleasure  she  took  in  the  picture  of  they 
two,  one  in  black  and  one  in  white,  with  Billy  be- 
tween them  so  big  and  strong  and  handsome. 

Now  they  had  to  stop  and  bother  with  dinner. 
And  now  they  were  in  the  full  drive  and  flurry  and 
hubbub  of  dressing.  And  now  they  were  all 
ready,  gloves  in  hand,  full  twenty  minutes  before 
the  time,  and  looking  at  the  tiny  Dresden  clock  on 
the  mantel  every  three  minutes,  and  gazing  down 
out  of  the  bay  window  to  see  what  machines  were 
stopping  at  the  door. 

Now  it  was  seven-thirty,  the  time  Billy  had  said 
he  would  call  I  And  now  it  was  seven-thirty-five. 
Tavy,  sparkling  quite  enough  to  make  up  for  the 
beautiful  diamond  she  was  concealing,  began  to 
draw  on  her  gloves.  The  tiny  Dresden  clock  was 


THE  ENEMY  181 

probably  fast.  Mrs.  Stuart  was  sitting  with  that 
smiling  patience  in  her  eyes,  her  hands  folded 
loosely  in  her  lap.  She  already  wore  her  gloves. 
She  was  very  handsome  indeed,  in  her  black  lace 
gown  and  her  gray  hair,  and  her  black  cloak, 
with  its  touches  of  silver  lace,  lying  on  the  chair  be- 
side her. 

Seven-forty-five  I  Tavy  was  sitting  perfectly 
still,  with  only  an  occasional  jerky  rock.  Of 
course  it  was  impossible  always  to  be  punctual  to 
the  minute.  One  shouldn't  expect  it  in  a  city 
where  the  traffic  is  so  frequently  blocked;  and  be- 
sides, there  is  always  a  defective  tire  to  consider. 
Tires  were  not  made  for  schedule  purposes. 

Eight  o'clock!  What  could  be  the  matter! 
Billy  has  never  been  late  before.  Mrs.  Stuart  sits 
in  quiet  patience,  but  Tavy  is  walking  the  floor, 
and  running  to  the  window,  and  watching  the  clock, 
and  sitting  down,  to  keep  sweet  and  unflurried. 

Eight-fifteen!  Eight-thirty!  Wild  visions  of 
dreadful  accidents  pop  through  Tavy's  head,  one 
after  another.  Something  terrible  has  surely  hap- 
pened !  She  sees  Billy  maimed  and  mangled  in  a 
dozen  different  ways;  she  sees  him  hauled  out  from 
the  wreckage  of  his  car;  she  sees  him  lying  dead  on 
the  pavement,  unidentified;  she  sees  everything, 
each  flashing  vision  more  terrifying  than  the  last ! 


1 82  THE  ENEMY 

She  is  half  frantic.  She  wants  to  call  up  the  police. 
She  listens  for  the  shrill  cries  of  newsboys  in  the 
street.  There  may  have  been  some  awful  dis- 
aster! 

Nine  o'clock!  It  is  maddening  to  be  a  woman, 
and  helpless,  and  given  only  the  privilege  of  wait- 
ing! 

Nine-ten!  The  enchanted  elevator  stops  with 
a  click  outside  in  the  hall.  Before  the  bell  can 
ring,  Tavy  has  hurried  to  the  door  and  has  swung 
it  wide  open,  and  there,  at  last,  stands  Billy,  at  the 
entrance  to  the  enchanted  parlor ! 

Billy  is  not  in  his  dress  clothes.  He  is  in  a  gray 
business  suit,  and  his  face  is  red  and  his  hair 
tousled.  His  eyes  are  bleared  and  glistening, 
and  there  is  a  foolish  grin  on  his  face. 

"  Guess  I'm  a  little  late,"  mumbles  Billy  with 
hearty  good-fellowship,  but  with  a  thick  tongue. 
"  Broke  away  at  last,  and  I'm  here." 

The  silence  in  the  poor  little  enchanted  pink 
and  gray  parlor  is  appalling!  Tavy  stands  some 
distance  back  from  the  door,  stiff  and  motionless, 
her  big  eyes  staring,  and  every  trace  of  the  delicate 
tinting  gone  from  her  delicate  cheeks.  There  is  a 
moan  and  a  sob  from  Mrs.  Stuart,  as  she  realizes 
the  truth.  Billy  is  drunk! 


CHAPTER  XVII 

TAVY   IS   TO   BLAME 

THE  blackness  of  despair  never  settled 
down  on  any  woman  with  more  deaden- 
ing and  crushing  weight  than  it  did  on 
Jean  Stuart.  Once  more  this  ghastly  spectre  of 
drunkenness  had  stalked  into  her  life!  In  that 
moment,  all  the  health  and  strength  and  happiness 
which  had  gradually  come  to  her  since  the  day 
when  Billy  knocked  at  their  door  in  Vanheuster 
Square,  were  swept  away,  and  left  her  weak,  bitter, 
and  ashen-gray  of  cheek  and  lip.  For  that  mo- 
ment she  sat  stunned,  then  had  come  the  moan. 
Billy,  stopped  on  the  threshold  by  some  dawning 
sense  that  the  good-fellowship  of  his  relations  in 
the  enchanted  parlor  had  been  disturbed,  now  felt 
that  it  was  time  for  him  to  step  forward  and  make 
things  right,  but  that  movement  brought  Jean 
Stuart  to  activity.  She  sprang  from  her  chair 
and  advanced  to  meet  him,  and  there  was  that 
horror  in  her  distended  eyes  which  startled  even 

183 


1 84  THE  ENEMY 

the  fuddled  Billy,  grinning  ingratiatingly  though 
he  was,  into  sudden  seriousness. 

She  wasted  no  words  on  him.  She  put  her  hand 
upon  his  arm,  and  pushed  him  towards  the  door. 
There  was  no  physical  force  in  her  touch,  only  the 
tense  will  behind  it;  and  Billy,  stricken  into  mum- 
bling confusion,  swayed  out.  The  door  closed  on 
him.  Swiftly  Jean  Stuart  turned  to  the  still  star- 
ing Tavy,  and  held  out  her  hand.  The  girl,  lost 
in  stupefaction,  did  not  comprehend,  and  her 
mother  caught  hold  of  the  ring.  For  an  instant 
the  finger  automatically  closed  and  stiffened,  then 
she  relaxed  it  to  limpness.  Jean  drew  off  the  ring. 
She  hurried  outside.  Billy  still  stood  there, 
numbly  trying  to  frame  within  himself  some  way 
out  of  this  unexpected  check  to  his  happiness.  He 
tried  to  say  something,  but  Tavy's  mother  thrust 
the  ring  in  his  hand,  and  hurrying  inside  the  door, 
closed  and  locked  it. 

Billy  Lane  gazed  down  at  the  ring  in  sodden 
wretchedness,  and  suddenly,  out  of  the  depths 
of  his  misery,  came  sobriety!  It  seemed  unbe- 
lievable, this  hideous  thing  which  had  happened 
to  him !  He  slowly  recalled  the  steps  by  which  he 
had  arrived  at  this  disaster.  He  had  not  been  so 
far  gone  that  he  could  not  remember.  He  had 
dropped  in  at  the  club  for  just  a  minute  to  order 


THE  ENEMY  185 

his  tickets  for  the  theater.  Sam  Langster  had 
been  there,  Jack  Reeves,  Bert  Hasselton.  They 
had  spread  the  news  throughout  the  club  that  Billy 
Lane  was  engaged.  They  had  thronged  around 
him  with  congratulations. 

Billy  was  very  popular.  Everybody  liked  Billy, 
because  of  his  exuberance,  his  buoyant  enthusiasm, 
his  unfailing  good-fellowship.  They  had  wished 
him  well !  They  had  wished  him  a  long  life  and  a 
merry  one ;  they  had  drunk  to  his  eternal  happiness. 
More  of  the  fellows  had  come,  shoals  of  them. 
Billy  had  never  been  so  happy  in  his  life.  This 
was  the  greatest  day  in  all  his  years  1  He  had 
secured,  to  be  his  wife,  the  best,  and  the  sweetest, 
and  the  most  beautiful  girl  in  all  the  world,  the  girl 
whom  he  meant  to  shield  and  protect  from  every 
pain,  from  every  sorrow,  from  every  harsh  wind, 
so  long  as  their  lives  should  last !  All  day  he  had 
been  in  a  state  of  exaltation  which  in  itself  was 
akin  to  intoxication,  and  now  that  exaltation  had 
been  raised  to  its  enth  degree  by  all  his  effervescent 
friends.  Only  Tommy  Tinkle  had  been  absent, 
and  Billy  had  waited  for  him,  just  a  few  minutes, 
and  had  drunk  again  and  again  in  response  to  all 
those  friendly  toasts.  He  had  not  for  one  min- 
ute forgotten  that  he  had  an  engagement  with  the 
Stuarts !  He  had  finally  torn  himself  away  from 


1 86  THE  ENEMY 

the  jolly  company,  though  not  without  some  rude- 
ness, and,  when  he  was  outside  in  the  air,  he  had 
congratulated  himself  aloud  on  having  gotten  away. 
He  must  be  a  little  late.  There'd  probably  be  no 
time  to  dress.  He  had  looked  at  his  watch,  sway- 
ing with  blinking  eyes.  It  had  been  difficult  for 
him  to  properly  focus  his  gaze.  His  watch 
couldn't  be  right!  He  had  stumbled  into  his  car; 
and  here  he  was,  with  the  ring  in  his  hand,  Tavy's 
ring,  and  the  door  closed  against  him,  and,  inside, 
some  one  sobbing!  He  rang  the  bell;  he  knocked 
on  the  door;  but  no  one  came! 

Yes,  some  one  was  sobbing.  It  was  Tavy! 
She  was  young.  She  could  still  sob,  she  could  still 
shed  tears,  she  could  still  bury  her  head  upon  a  lov- 
ing shoulder  and  find  comfort  there. 

For  a  long,  long  time,  Jean  Stuart  sat  on  the 
couch  and  held  her  daughter  in  her  arms,  held  her 
there  until  after  she  heard  the  shuffling  footsteps 
in  the  hall  move  away,  and  the  elevator  stop,  and 
shoot  downward;  held  her  there  until  the  mist  of 
the  night  came  in  chill  at  the  open  window.  She 
felt  the  chill  upon  her  flesh,  but  it  was  nothing  to 
the  icy  clutch  which  had  fastened  upon  her  heart ! 

She  kissed  the  tear-stained  face,  at  last,  and  rose, 
quietly,  firmly,  steadily.  She  helped  Tavy  to  her 
feet,  and,  with  an  arm  around  her,  drew  her  to- 


THE  ENEMY  187 

ward  the  dainty  little  delf  and  white  room.  There 
were  the  pretty  dresses  to  take  off,  and  all  the 
pretty  finery  to  put  away,  and  many,  many  things 
to  lock,  far,  far  from  sight,  in  the  hidden  re- 
cesses of  a  heart  which  was  already  crowded  with 
the  useless  lumber  of  broken  hopes  and  shattered 
dreams. 

But  what  of  Tavy?  From  her  stupefaction 
she  had  awakened  to  a  frantic  sense  of  humilia- 
tion. How  could  Billy  have  put  this  shame  upon 
her!  He  had  covered  her  with  disgrace  before 
her  mother,  before  herself,  before  him!  It  had 
been  much  as  if  her  fresh  and  pretty  gown  of  deli- 
cate chiffon  had  been  suddenly  drenched  in  a 
muddy  stream.  That  blow  to  her  pride  was  one 
from  which  she  would  never  quite  recover.  That 
first  disillusionment  had  taken  from  her  forever 
some  of  her  delicacy,  it  had  thrust  her  rudely 
into  the  most  loathsome  sordidness  of  life,  and 
she  would  never  again  have  quite  her  same  de- 
gree of  self-respect.  How  could  he  have  done 
this  thing  to  her!  She  would  never  forget  that 
brutish  distortion  of  his  face,  that  swinish  animal 
which  had  stood  swaying  before  her  in  so  gross  a 
caricature  of  Billy!  How  dared  he!  Resent- 
ment rose  fast  in  her  and  became  anger.  She  was 
furious  with  him!  She  loathed  him!  She  de- 


1 88  THE  ENEMY 

spised  herself  for  ever  having  turned  to  one  of 
such  beastial  capabilities  a  pure  and  worshipful 
adoration!  Why,  she  had  looked  upon  him  as 
some  wondrous  being  only  one  step  lower  than 
the  archangels,  a  perfect  and  flawless  creature  of 
splendid  grandeur!  She  laughed  bitterly.  How 
foolish  she  had  been  not  to  have  seen  through 
him  to  this  creature  of  base  clay!  It  had  not 
seemed  possible  that  there  could  be  anything  but 
good  in  him.  Oh,  why  had  he  destroyed  her 
ideals!  Why!  She  had  been  so  happy,  so  proud 
in  his  love,  and  in  her  own!  It  had  seemed  so 
wonderful  to  nestle  there  in  his  arms,  in  that  quiet 
moment  after  their  first  transports,  and  look  for- 
ward into  the  heaven  of  the  future  to  where  they 
two  should  walk,  constantly  side  by  side,  toward  a 
rosy  sunset  of  perfect  peace  and  happiness;  and 
now  it  was  gone,  all,  all  gone,  and  there  remained 
nothing  but  blackness ! 

It  was  then  that  the  pent-up  misery  broke  within 
her,  and  the  tears  welled  up  to  her  eyes  and  the 
sobs  to  her  throat,  and  she  felt  about  her  the  com- 
forting arms  of  the  mother  who  had  not  found  any 
word,  amid  all  the  bitterness  of  her  crushed  heart, 
to  speak  her  own  mortal  hurt  or  give  one  crumb 
of  comfort. 

Amid  that  storm  of  distress  there  came  the  in- 


THE  ENEMY  189 

sistently  recurring  question  in  Tavy's  mind;  why, 
oh,  why?  How  could  this  disaster  have  fallen  on 
her!  What  had  she  done  to  deserve  it?  Why 
could  not  Billy  have  escaped  this  terrible  deed? 
She  could  scarcely  believe  now  that  he  had 
done  it.  It  was  all  so  unreal.  It  was  not  like 
him !  There  must  have  been  some  cause,  for  Billy 
would  never  have  done  this  of  his  own  volition. 
No  sane  human  being  could  will  himself  to  de- 
scend to  this  hideous  fall  from  his  god-head.  Per- 
haps he  had  been  ill.  That  must  be  it!  There 
could  be  no  other  explanation,  unless  she  chose 
to  think  of  Billy  as  one  of  deliberately  besotted 
tendencies,  who  preferred  to  sink  himself  in  glut- 
tony. That  thought  was  absurd.  Billy  had  never 
voluntarily  put  himself  in  this  condition,  and  if  it 
had  come  upon  him  involuntarily,  he  was  more  to 
be  pitied  than  blamed. 

Thaf  was  a  startling  thought!  One  which 
dried  her  tears  and  stopped  her  sobs.  If  Billy 
had  been  unfortunate,  if  this  affliction  had  been 
brought  upon  him  against  his  will,  he  had  needed 
her  sympathy,  her  comfort,  even  her  aid.  And 
what  had  she  done !  She  had  let  him  go  without  a 
protest,  she,  who  had  sworn  herself  to  him,  as 
sincerely  and  as  whole-heartedly  and  as  sacredly 
as  she  would  upon  the  day  when  they  would  kneel 


i9o  THE  ENEMY 

at  the  altar  and  ask  the  blessing  of  God  upon 
their  union !  She  had  stood  supinely,  and  allowed 
to  be  removed  from  her  finger  the  symbol  by  which 
she  had  bound  herself  to  him,  in  love,  and  truth, 
and  eternal  fidelity!  In  his  hour  of  direst  need, 
she  had  been  traitorous  to  Billy;  and  now  she 
heaped  self-reproach  after  self-reproach  upon  her 
own  head.  She  did  not  blame  her  mother.  She 
was  just  in  this  new  agony.  Her  mother's  in- 
stinct of  protection,  that  same  instinct  which  had 
shielded  Tavy  so  tenderly,  and  yet  so  vigorously, 
through  all  these  years,  had  led  her  to  guard  her 
daughter  promptly  and  decisively  from  this  new 
menace ;  but  her  mother  had  not  known.  She,  like 
Tavy,  had  been  stunned  by  this  unexpected  ap- 
parition of  poor  Billy.  The  only  guilty  one  was 
Tavy!  She  had  permitted  the  ring  to  be  taken 
from  her  finger.  She  had  allowed  Billy,  her  Billy, 
whom  she  loved  with  all  her  heart  and  with  all  her 
life,  to  be  sent  away  alone,  into  the  night  — 
Where? 

"Mother,  I've  been  wrong!  I  want  Billy! 
We  must  find  him !  " 

Jean  Stuart  looked  at  her  daughter  pityingly. 
She  had  held  her  tongue  through  all  this  time, 
knowing,  out  of  the  ashes  of  her  own  buried  past, 
that  Tavy  must  fight  this  first  battle  by  herself. 


THE  ENEMY  191 

Silently  she  had  followed,  step  by  step,  through  all 
the  mazes  of  Tavy's  reasoning  and  her  emotion, 
and  she  had  been  prepared,  for  the  heart  of  Tavy 
had  been  her  heart,  for  this  conclusion. 

"  I  hope  you  may  never  see  him  again,"  she 
said.  They  had  silently  been  putting  away  their 
piteously  wasted  fineries,  but  now  she  drew  Tavy 
into  a  chair  and  sat  before  her.  "  Tavy  dear,  the 
time  has  come  when  I  must  myself  deal  you  a  blow 
which  I  had  hoped  always  to  spare  you.  If  I 
did  not  know  what  I  know,  I  would  say,  too,  that 
we  should  find  Billy,  and  take  care  of  him,  and 
save  him  from  ever  again  falling  a  victim  to  that 
loathsome  disease  which  gripped  him  to-night;  but 
no  young  man  who  could,  under  any  circumstances, 
arrive  at  the  state  in  which  Billy  presented  himself 
here,  is  worth  the  appalling  danger  of  saving. 
He  is  not  worth  the  absolute  sacrifice  of  any 
beautiful  young  girl's  entire  life." 

Tavy  half  rose.  She  made  a  move  as  if  to 
speak,  but  her  mother  silenced  her  with  a  gesture. 
Jean  Stuart's  face  had  lost  every  trace  of  its  health- 
ful hue,  and  there  was  a  greenish  cast  beneath 
its  gray.  Bitter  lines,  erased  by  fifteen  years  of 
patient  sweetness,  had  sprung  out  of  their  old  hid- 
ing-places around  her  nose  and  mouth,  and  into  her 
eyes  had  come  that  spiritual  deadness  which  fol- 


i92  THE  ENEMY 

lows  the  ruthless  mangling  and  crushing  of  the 
soul.  It  was  a  face  the  commands  of  which  were 
carried  out  by  awe;  and  Tavy  sat  back  in  her 
chair,  with  a  vague  horror  of  something  worse  to 
come  creeping  into  her  mind.  * 

"  Tavy  dear,  I  am  going  to  destroy,  because 
I  must,  a  pride  which  I  have  fostered  in  you  for 
fifteen  years.  I  am  going  to  destroy  the  noblest 
ideal  of  your  life,  up  to  this  time.  I  am  going  to 
strip  the  veil  of  hero  worship  from  the  name  you 
most  revere.  I  am  going  to  tell  you  the  story 
of  a  drunkard.  I  do  not  know  if  he  is  living  or 
dead,  but  I  loved  him  as  you  love  Billy,  and  I  shall 
still  love  him  when  I  die;  and  that  drunkard  was 
Harrison  Stuart,  your  father  1  " 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

GERALDINE,    THE    COMFORTER 

THE  round  moon  slipped  down  out  of  the 
sky  and  sank  behind  the  Jersey  hills,  and 
with  its  disappearance  came  blackness,  ex- 
cept for  that  faint,  vague  trace  of  glow  in  the  west- 
ern horizon.  Up  from  the  sleeping  city  there 
came  now  the  plodding  and  the  rumble  of  the  very 
earliest  stirring  of  drowsy  life;  huge,  dim  wagons 
drawn  by  stolid  thick-necked,  heavy-rumped,  big- 
footed  horses;  a  lonely  elevated  train  rattled  and 
clattered  in  the  distance  with  sharp  clearness,  and 
presently  another,  the  intervals  between  them 
growing  less  as  the  darkness  deepened.  A  far-off 
clock  chimed  the  hour,  a  policeman's  shrill  whistle, 
the  sound  of  running  feet,  silence  again;  then  long, 
slow,  dragging  minutes.  In  the  east  a  faint  radi- 
ance began  to  appear,  not  a  streak  of  light,  but  a 
lesser  blackness,  and  with  its  coming,  the  bent  fig- 
ure in  the  window  straightened  and  sighed.  The 
standing  figure,  at  the  window  in  the  other  end  of 
the  lounging-room,  moved. 

193 


i94  THE  ENEMY 

"  Hadn't  you  better  go  to  bed,  sir?  "  Burke, 
extraordinary  tall  and  spectrelike  in  his  heavy 
striped  robe. 

"  No,  I  think  not."  John  Doe,  his  voice  quiet, 
full  of  patience.  "  The  nights  are  still  a  little 
chilly,  Burke." 

"  Yes,  sir."  The  hint  was  enough.  Burke 
touched  a  match  to  the  paper  and  kindlings  in  the 
big  fireplace,  and,  as  the  flames  leaped  up,  the  first 
light  since  midnight  came  into  the  big  lounging- 
room,  and  revealed  the  old  man  as  still  dressed, 
from  pumps  to  white  tie,  just  as  he  had  been  when 
he  came  in  from  the  theater.  It  had  been  a  very 
dull  show,  and  the  folding  opera  glasses  still  lay 
on  the  table.  They  had  not  been  used.  Box  A 
had  been  empty! 

Burke  looked  at  his  watch,  then  he  went  into  the 
pantry.  Presently  he  came  back  with  a  tray,  and 
stopped  at  the  mantel.  He  set  up  a  glass  of  the 
green  liquid,  and  stood  and  looked  at  it  a  moment, 
then  he  crossed  to  John  Doe  with  his  tray. 

"  I  thought  you  might  like  a  cup  of  hot  coffee, 


sir." 


"  Thank  you."  The  old  man  drew  a  tabou- 
rette  beside  him,  but  his  eyes  were  fixed  on  the 
glass  of  green  liquid  on  the  mantel.  Neither  of 
them  said  anything  more.  Burke  set  the  tray  on 


THE  ENEMY  195 

the  tabourette,  and  went  back  to  his  post  at  the 
window  in  the  far  end  of  the  room,  leaning,  in  tall 
ease,  against  the  casing,  and  gazing  somberly 
down  into  the  street,  with  its  long  perspective  of 
lonely  lights. 

The  dawn  was  advancing  now ;  there  was  a  dull 
red  streak  in  the  east,  almost  sullen  in  its  heavi- 
ness; there  was  a  mist  in  the  air.  It  would  be  a 
gloomy  day.  John  Doe  sipped  at  his  coffee  in 
silence. 

There  was  the  click  of  a  key  in  the  latch. 
Burke  straightened  instantly  and  turned.  John 
Doe  set  down  his  coffee.  The  door  swung  open, 
and  Billy  stood,  for  a  moment,  framed  against 
the  dim  light  of  the  hall.  His  hair  was  matted 
upon  his  forehead  with  the  dampness  of  the  night, 
his  cravat  was  awry,  his  face  was  haggard,  but  his 
eyes,  though  there  was  a  hollowness  about  them, 
were  clear  and  steady,  and  his  mouth  was  firm. 
He  swayed  as  he  stepped  into  the  room  and  closed 
the  door  behind  him,  but  it  was  from  weariness. 

He  walked  across  to  the  table,  and,  as  Burke 
strode  forward  to  meet  him,  he  handed  over  his 
hat  and  gloves,  and  let  Burke  divest  him  of  his 
top-coat. 

"  You  haven't  been  sitting  up  all  night,  Hal?  " 
His  voice  was  husky,  and  there  was  a  deadness  in 


196  THE  ENEMY 

it  which  fitted  with  the  deadness  of  his  eyes.  He 
reached  for  a  cigarette.  The  decanter  was  in 
front  of  the  matches,  and  he  moved  it  to  one 
side. 

"  Yes,  I  couldn't  sleep.  I  turned  out  the  lights 
and  went  into  the  bedroom,  but  I  came  back." 
He  had  risen  from  his  chair,  and  stood  gazing 
at  Billy  in  wonder,  a  half  light  of  joyous  hope  in 
his  face.  "  You  didn't  go  to  the  theater." 

"  No,"  and  a  spasm  of  pain  crossed  Billy's 
features,  as  the  sudden  realization  smote  him  that 
he  had  forced  a  night  of  misery  on  Hal,  as  well  as 
on  Hal's  wife  and  daughter.  He  lit  his  cigarette 
and  glanced  at  Burke.  That  handy  man,  broadly 
delighted,  took  his  glass  of  green  liquid  from  the 
mantel,  and  left  the  room  with  a  light  footstep, 
every  tousled  red  hair  on  his  head  alive  with  his 
gratification.  Billy  was  sober;  cold  sober! 

Billy  rose,  and  walked  slowly  over  to  the  mantel 
and  leaned  upon  it,  staring  down  into  the  fire,  the 
old  man  studying  him  in  anxious  silence. 

"  It's  all  off,  Hal,"  he  said,  in  the  even,  dead 
tone  which  had  come  out  of  his  night  of  miserable 
wandering.  His  hand  hung  limply  by  his  side. 
"  I  went  up  to  the  house  to-night  —  drunk!  " 

"Billy!" 

The  hand  closed  stiffly,  and  then  it  opened  again. 


THE  ENEMY  197 

He  compressed  his  lips  and  compelled  himself  to 
steadiness.  There  had  been  no  reproach  in  the 
old  man's  voice.  Billy  had  been  prepared  for  re- 
proach, prepared  to  accept  it  for  his  just  due;  but 
he  had  not  been  prepared  for  that  tone  of  pity. 

"  I  went  up  there  after  nine  o'clock,"  he  went 
numbly  on.  "I  stood  in  the  doorway,  drunk. 
They  were  all  dressed  for  the  theater.  Tavy's 
mother  gave  me  back  the  ring ;  then  she  closed  the 
door." 

"  Jeanl  Jean!  "  The  cry  burst  from  the  old 
man's  lips  as  if  he  had  been  seared  by  sudden 
fire.  Again  Jean  had  met  her  grizzly  enemy  face 
to  face,  again  she  had  been  pursued  and  tortured 
by  that  ghastly  demon  which  had  wrecked  and 
embittered  her  life !  His  whole  thought,  in  that 
first  realization  of  the  picture,  was  for  her.  Then 
for  Tavy,  his  little  Tavy,  with  the  big  glowing 
eyes  and  the  glossy  black  curls.  Even  to  her  this 
hideous  monster  must  show  its  loathsome  face ! 

"  She  was  dressed  in  white,  pure  white,"  went 
on  Billy,  in  that  monotonously  inflexible  voice; 
"  just  soft  and  clinging  white,  with  no  adornment 
around  her  beautiful  white  neck.  I  had  selected  a 
string  of  pearls  which  I  had  intended  to  give 
her  for  a  wedding  present."  Again  he  closed  and 
opened  the  hand  which  hung  at  his  side.  "  Her 


i98  THE  ENEMY 

black  curls  were  caught  in  with  a  band  of  lilies  of 
the  valley." 

"And  Jean?"  Even  now  Hal  dwelt  with 
eager  hunger  on  the  visualization  of  her,  on  any- 
thing which  would  bring  a  new  picture  of  her  to  his 
mind. 

"  All  in  black,  Hal.  She  was  very  beauti- 
ful." 

There  was  a  long,  long  silence  between  them, 
then,  with  a  sigh,  Billy  went  into  his  own  room. 

There  were  days  like  this,  days  of  numb  suf- 
fering, in  which  neither  man  talked  much.  The 
blight  which  had  fallen  upon  them  all  was  too 
big  and  too  devastating  for  words  to  ease.  Billy 
rose  early,  and  worked  hard,  and  spent  his  nights 
at  home  with  Hal  and  Tommy;  silent  evenings 
given  over  to  fits  of  brooding  and  to  stolid  appli- 
cation. Hal  was  revising  the  proofs  on  the  new 
book,  and  Billy  brought  home,  each  night,  some 
drawing  on  which  he  could  toil  when  the  moment 
came  in  which  he  must  not  think.  Tommy,  vot- 
ing them  both  deadly  bores,  merely  sat,  the  most  of 
the  time.  Billy  had  made  no  attempt  to  see  Tavy, 
he  had  made  no  effort  at  futile  apology,  he  had 
written  no  despairing  letters  to  be  returned,  and, 
day  by  day,  dull  despondency  settled  upon  him, 
until  the  need  of  comfort,  more  than  Tommy  could 


THE  ENEMY  199 

give,  became  desperately  imperative.  It  was  then 
that  he  went  to  see  Geraldine. 

What  a  blessing  it  was  to  have  a  good,  steadfast 
friend  like  Geraldine !  She  greeted  Billy  with  all 
the  old  gaiety,  and  all  the  old,  frank  fondness,  and 
she  listened  in  sympathetic  patience  to  his  tale  of 
abject  misery.  When  he  had  finished,  she 
laughed;  and  he  had  not  seen  in  her  eyes,  nor  did 
he  see  now  the  glitter  of  her  satisfaction  and  the 
dreaminess  of  her  speculation.  He  could  not  di- 
vine how  eagerly  she  had  waited  for  this  moment, 
longed  for  the  opening.  She  had  known  positively 
that  it  would  come  1 

"  It  isn't  a  tragedy,  Billy,"  she  heartily  assured 
him.  "  Tavy's  too  sweet  a  girl  to  hold  out  against 
you  for  so  slight  an  offense." 

"Slight!"  Billy  was  horrified.  "Why,  I 
don't  believe  you  realize  yet,  Geraldine,  what  I 
did!" 

"  Why  not?     You  did  the  same  thing  here." 

Billy  knotted  his  brows.  It  was  the  same, 
wasn't  it?  Exactly.  Only  somehow  it  seemed 
vastly  different.  Not  being  able  to  express  the 
difference,  he  gave  it  up. 

"  You  don't  know  the  circumstances,"  he  so- 
berly told  her.  "  There  are  reasons  why  Mrs. 
Stuart  will  never  forgive  me." 


200  THE  ENEMY 

"  Yes,  she  will,"  and  Geraldine's  voice  was  most 
soothing.  "  Besides,  Tavy  is  the  one  to  be  con- 
sidered. If  she  cares  as  much  for  you  as  she 
should  she'll  send  for  you  one  of  these  days." 

"  Do  you  think  so!  "  There  was  such  intense 
eagerness  in  his  voice  that  Geraldine,  with  diffi- 
culty, repressed  a  frown. 

"  Certainly,"  she  replied  promptly.  "  If  she 
doesn't,  Billy,  she  isn't  worth  breaking  your  heart 
over.  And,  if  she  doesn't,  you  can  come  right 
back  to  your  old  friends.  We'll  stick  by  you  no 
matter  what  you  do.  Do  you  remember  how 
quickly  we  forgave  you  after  the  morning  you  and 
Tommy  wanted  me  to  breakfast  at  old  Chris- 
tian's? "  She  laughed  lightly,  and  then,  with  sud- 
den seriousness,  she  leaned  forward.  They  were 
sitting  in  the  conservatory,  with  a  big  green  palm 
spreading  back  of  her,  just  where  one  of  the  fan- 
like  leaves  made  a  crown  for  her  hair  of  golden 
brown.  "  My  conscience  has  always  hurt  me 
about  that  morning,  Billy.  I  was  very  wrong  to 
have  sent  you  away.  I  should  have  had  you  stay 
to  breakfast.  I  was  bad !  " 

She  was  very  lovely  as  she  lifted  her  soft  eyes 
to  his.  There  was  a  pretty  flush  on  her  smooth, 
round  cheeks,  and  her  hand,  as  she  laid  it  upon  his 


THE  ENEMY  201 

in  her  earnestness,  was  tender  and  warm.  He 
caught  it,  and  held  it  in  gratitude. 

"  You  were,  a  brick,  Geraldine !  "  and  he  drew 
her  arm  within  his  own  as  he  sat  on  the  bench 
beside  her.  "  I  never  blamed  you  for  turning  me 
loose  that  way.  I'm  not  fit  for  any  nice  girl.  I'm 
a  worm !  " 

"You're  no  such  thing!"  she  indignantly  de- 
nied. "You're  a  dear  old  Billy;  and,  while  I 
don't  like  to  criticize  Tavy,  I  do  really  think  she 
was  as  bad  as  I.  She  should  have  taken  you  in 
that  night,  and  helped  you,  and  given  you  a  good 
scolding,  and  made  you  promise  to  behave.  Why, 
goodness,  Billy,  every  live  young  man  passes 
through  that  stage !  Tavy  has  no  right  to  make  a 
world-without-end  tragedy  of  it!  " 

She  touched  the  wrong  chord  there,  for  Billy 
broke  loose  again.  Tavy  was  the  most  wonderful 
creature  in  the  world,  the  most  adorable,  the  most 
desirable;  and,  for  a  solid  half  hour,  Geraldine 
was  compelled  to  listen  to  a  minute  dissection  of 
Tavy's  charms,  and  abilities,  and  sweetness,  and 
general,  all-round  super-perfection.  It  would 
have  been  monotonous  to  almost  any  one,  but  Ger- 
aldine stood  it  with  exceptional  fortitude,  and  she 
wound  up  her  trial  as  sweetly  as  she  had  begun. 


202  THE  ENEMY 

11  You  poor  Billy !  "  she  sympathized.  "  I 
won't  have  you  miserable  like  this.  I'll  see  Tavy 
to-morrow  afternoon,  and,  if  you'll  come  here  for 
dinner,  I'll  tell  you  all  about  it" 

"  You're  a  good  fellow,  Geraldine!  "  and  there 
was  a  gulp  in  Billy's  voice,  as  he  patted  her  plump 
hand.  "  You  bet  I'll  be  here  to  dinner  1  " 


CHAPTER  XIX 

TAVY   TAKES   A   MUSIC   LESSON 

GERALDINE  BENNING,  mauve  to-day 
from  bonnet  to  slippers,  was  gushingly  de- 
lighted to  see  her  dear  friend  Tavy,  and 
she  said  so  with  many  little  nods  of  the  mauve 
plumes. 

"  And,  frankly,  I've  brought  you  out  here  in  the 
park  to  scold  you,"  she  concluded,  turning  slowly 
into  the  beautiful  curves  of  the  West  Drive. 

Tavy  smiled  wistfully,  which  was  easy  to  do, 
since  there  was  so  much  wistfulness  in  the  big  dark 
gray  eyes. 

"  I  don't  mind.  It  will  be  rather  a  novelty. 
What  is  the  scolding  to  be  about?  " 

"  Billy,"  and  Geraldine  cast  a  quick  little  side- 
long glance  to  see  the  effect  of  the  simple  word. 
What  she  saw  made  the  tips  of  the  mauve  plumes 
jerk,  for  there  was  an  instant  piteous  twitch  at 
the  corner  of  the  exquisitely  curved  lips,  and  the 
big  dark  eyes  contracted  sharply.  They  glistened 
as  if  with  moisture. 

203 


204  THE  ENEMY 

"  You  know,  then."  No  concealment  in  the 
voice,  no  attempt  to  hide  that  there  had  been  bit- 
ter suffering;  and  no  parade  of  it.  The  mauve 
plumes  jerked  again. 

"  Of  course."  A  contented  little  laugh. 
"  Dear  old  Billy  came  straight  to  me.  He's  been 
telling  me  his  troubles  ever  since  we  were  kiddies 
together."  If  that  bit  of  information  had  been  in- 
tended to  bring  another  twitch  to  the  lips  of  Tavy, 
it  was  two-edged;  for  Geraldine  herself  winced 
somewhat  in  the  telling.  "  He's  dreadfully  un- 
happy." 

"  We  all  are,"  acknowledged  Tavy.  "  I  don't 
think  mother  will  ever  quite  get  over  it." 

"Why  not?"  The  tone  of  Geraldine  was 
sharp.  "  One  would  think  Billy  had  committed 
some  terrible  crime,  in  place  of  merely  having  had 
an  accident.  He's  a  good  Billy,  and  I  consider 
that  he's  been  abused." 

That  was  better.  A  little  flush  crept  into  the 
cheeks  of  Tavy,  and  the  dark  eyes  began  to  glow. 
It  was  not  unpleasant  to  hear  Billy  defended,  in 
fact,  he  needed  defense;  but  it  was  Tavy  who 
should  be  doing  it,  not  the  girl  to  whom  he  had  run 
with  all  his  troubles. 

"  I  am  sure  that  Billy  does  not  believe  that  he 
was  abused." 


THE  ENEMY  205 

The  plumes  nodded,  as  if  they  laughed.  "  Not 
Billy.  He  blames  himself  for  everything.  He 
was  contrite  in  just  the  same  way,  after  he  came 
to  our  house  one  time  in  the  same  condition.  Of 
course  I  was  furious,  but  I  forgave  him  two  days 
afterwards.  I  don't  think  an  unfortunate  weak- 
ness like  that  should  be  held  against  any  one." 

Tavy  was  thoughtful,  too  thoughtful  to  answer, 
too  thoughtful  to  enjoy,  or  even  to  notice,  the  ten- 
der green  leaves  which  waved  down  upon  the  shin- 
ing little  coupe;  and  she  smoothed  and  smoothed 
at  the  seam  in  her  mouse-colored  frock,  the  color 
of  which  brought  out  her  pallor  and  her  wistful- 
ness  and  her  pathos,  qualities  over  which  the 
mauve  plumes  nodded  with  savage  little  bobs.  So 
this  was  not  the  first  time  for  Billy.  Could  it  be 
possible  that  Tavy's  mother  was  right,  that  Billy 
was  one  of  those  who  are  doomed  to  bear  this 
curse  through  life;  and  she  shuddered  as  she 
thought  of  the  pitiful  revelation  concerning  her 
father.  Tavy  had  seen  with  her  own  eyes  what 
this  weakness  had  done  to  the  Stuart  family,  and 
it  was  far  too  serious  a  matter  for  light  talk.  She 
stole  a  look  at  the  healthy  cheeks,  the  scarlet  lips 
and  the  clear  brow  of  Geraldine.  What  could 
this  girl  know  of  sorrow  or  tragedy;  what  could 
she  know  of  deep  heart  hurt?  She  was  Billy's 


206  THE  ENEMY 

friend,  the  one  to  whom  he  went  with  all  his 
troubles,  ever  since  they  were  kiddies  together! 
Tavy's  lips  compressed,  as  she  stifled  something  in 
her  which  jumped  and  hurt. 

"  People  like  Billy  need  sympathy,"  went  on 
Geraldine,  as  soon  as  she  saw  that  compression 
of  the  lips,  and  she  studied  little  Tavy,  from  black 
curls  to  gray  slippers,  with  curious  satisfaction. 
"  His  friends  love  him  in  spite  of  his  affliction. 
They  know  that  the  poor  boy  is  likely  to  have  that 
happen  to  him  at  any  time,  but  there  is  so  much 
good  in  him  that  he  simply  must  be  forgiven." 

Very  still  sat  Tavy,  smoothing  and  smoothing 
at  the  seam  of  the  little  gray  frock  with  her  tiny 
thumb.  So,  all  Billy's  friends  knew  of  his  weak- 
ness, and  that  it  was  chronic,  and  that  it  was  likely 
to  occur  again  and  again,  and  that  he  must  be  for- 
given and  forgiven,  and  that  after  each  forgive- 
ness he  was  likely  to  come  to  the  door,  at  the  most 
unexpected  times,  with  that  something  in  him 
which  was  not  Billy,  leering  its  red  leer  and  snarl- 
ing its  red  snarl  out  of  a  cruelly  distorted  and  dis- 
ennobled  countenance.  Could  Tavy's  mother  ever 
endure  that  again?  Why,  for  years  before  Tavy 
had  come  into  the  world,  and  after,  Jean  Stuart 
had  lived  in  the  hourly  dread  that  this  awful  thing 


THE  ENEMY  207 

was  to  happen  again.  She  never  saw  her  husband 
leave  the  house  that  she  did  not  live  in  an  agony 
of  fear  until  she  looked  in  his  eyes  and  saw  them 
clean.  No,  it  must  never  happen  again,  never! 
Deeper  and  deeper  Tavy  buried  her  heart  beneath 
the  ashes  of  her  once  joyous  hopes,  and  the  mouse- 
gray  of  her  gown  crept  up  and  blended  with  the 
delicate  tint  of  her  cheeks  and  obliterated  it;  while 
the  gay  mauve  plumes  nodded  and  nodded.  Oh  I 
Geraldine  was  talking  again.  What  was  she  say- 
ing? 

"  So  I'll  just  bring  Billy  up  some  evening,  and 
pop  him  in  at  the  door." 

Tavy's  heart  gave  a  leap.  It  was  not  yet  deeply 
enough  buried;  so  brave  little  Tavy  compressed 
her  lips,  and  heaped  more  ashes  upon  it,  more  and 
more,  working  quite  frantically,  as  if  in  terror  that 
it  might  burst  through  the  ashes  before  she  had 
heaped  on  enough.  To  have  Billy  pop  through 
the  door !  It  was  a  startling  thought,  and  no  won- 
der her  heart  had  leaped.  She  could  see  him 
standing  there,  not  as  he  had  stood  on  that  awful 
night,  but  big  and  handsome,  strong  and  yet  ten- 
der, with  the  love  light  in  his  eyes,  and  —  more 
ashes,  little  Tavy,  more  ashes,  quickly.  The  lips 
compressed,  and  the  little  hand  which  had  been 


208  THE  ENEMY 

smoothing  the  mouse-colored  seam,  fluttered  up 
and  pressed  upon  the  bosom  for  an  instant ;  and  the 
mauve  plumes  nodded  and  bobbed. 

"  Grand  tableau,"  Geraldine  rattled  on,  "  Billy 
pops  in,  I  pop  out,  tears,  reconciliation,  the  fatted 
calf.  He'll  be  at  our  house  for  dinner  to-night. 
I'll  bring  him  up." 

"  No."  All  buried  now,  buried  away  down 
deep,  and  the  voice  was  even  and  firm.  What 
wonderful  patience  and  capacity  for  suffering  had 
these  women  of  Jean  Stuart's  strain!  It  was  bred 
in  them ;  they  had  need  of  it,  God  help  them ! 

"  Some  other  night  then,"  Geraldine  cheerfully 
urged.  "  You're  bound  to  have  him  sooner  or 
later,  because  Billy  is  irresistible;  and  the  Billy 
habit  grows  on  one.  I  couldn't  do  without  Billy 
if  I  wanted  to."  The  mauve  plumes  should  have 
been  clipped.  "  Well,  wait  until  some  night  next 
week." 

"  Please  don't,  Geraldine."  Because  Tavy's 
heart  was  buried  was  no  reason  why  her  suscep- 
tibility to  pain  should  be  gone,  and  in  her  voice 
was  a  piteous  intonation,  which  anything  but  a 
mauve  plume  would  have  respected.  "  You 
mustn't  think  of  it.  I  know  you  mean  well,  but 
Billy  can't  come." 

"  I'm  so  sorry!  "  cooed  Geraldine.     "  Billy  will 


THE  ENEMY  209 

be  broken-hearted  when  I  tell  him  to-night  that  his 
good  Samaritan  failed." 

Thereupon  Billy's  good  Samaritan  dropped  the 
entire  subject,  and  chatted  away  about  frills  and 
furbelows,  and  dances  and  theaters,  and  all  such 
agreeable  topics,  until  it  came  time  to  take  Tavy 
home,  with  a  splitting  headache. 

At  dinner  time,  the  mauve  plumes  tucked  away 
with  Geraldine's  other  familiars,  Billy's  good  Sa- 
maritan appeared  before  him  radiant  with  sym- 
pathy, if  such  a  thing  could  be,  and  cheerful  with 
condolence.  To  relieve  her  ill  tidings  from  any 
trace  of  sombreness,  she  had  arrayed  herself  most 
thoughtfully  in  a  shimmering  dinner-gown  of 
canary,  which  turned  the  golden  brown  of  her  hair 
to  burnished  copper.  An  airy  butterfly  of  black 
gauze  peeped  its  spreading  wings  from  behind 
her  shoulders,  and  its  foolish  long  black  tail  floated 
delicately  down  around  her,  clinging  as  if  in  caress. 
Her  cheeks  were  fresh  and  her  eyes  were  sparkling 
as  she  swept  in,  like  a  vision  of  sun  glow,  to  greet 
Billy  in  his  favorite  nook  in  the  billiard-room;  but 
a  trace  of  the  sparkle  left  her  eyes  as  Billy  ad- 
vanced eagerly  to  meet  her.  He  did  not  notice 
the  sunburst  effect  at  all !  He  had  no  heed  for  the 
black  butterfly,  nor  the  burnished  copper  hair,  nor 
the  fresh  cheeks,  nor  even  the  sparkling  eyes. 


210  THE  ENEMY 

"  Did  you  see  her!  "  he  asked. 

"  Tavy,  you  mean?"  she  laughed.  "I  had 
her  out  for  a  drive,  Billy." 

"  How  is  she?     How  did  she  look?  " 

"  Pretty  well,  I  should  say."  Geraldine  con- 
sidered the  matter  critically,  with  a  pretty  little 
pucker  of  concentration  in  lips  and  brow.  "  Her 
hair  was  as  black  as  ever,  and  she  was  quite  able 
to  laugh,  when  I  told  her  about  Tommy's  absurd 
fancy-dress  breakfast." 

"  Oh,"  observed  Billy.  He  should  have  been 
delighted  that  Tavy  had  not  worn  herself  to  a 
shadow  with  grief,  but  there  was  a  selfish  pang  of 
disappointment  in  the  thought  that  she  had 
laughed.  "  What  did  she  say?  " 

Geraldine's  face  turned  sweetly  serious  and  her 
lashes  drooped,  as  she  took  his  hand  and  clasped 
her  own  over  it. 

"  I  don't  like  to  tell  you,  Billy."  Her  voice  was 
full  of  sympathetic  modulation,  low  and  gentle, 
and  her  brows  twitched  ever  so  slightly  as  she  felt 
the  wince  in  the  big  hand  which  lay  in  hers.  She 
slipped  her  arm  in  his,  and  strolled  with  him  to- 
wards the  library. 

"  It's  all  off  then,  permanently,"  he  guessed, 
and  his  voice  was  funereal  in  its  dejection.  "  I 
am  not  to  see  her  any  more." 


THE  ENEMY  211 

"  I  wouldn't  give  up  all  hope  even  yet."  It  was 
dim  in  the  library,  and  the  dark  walls  were  half 
hidden  in  the  glow  of  a  low,  wide-spreading,  dull 
red  lamp  shade.  She  sat  in  one  of  the  big  leather 
couches,  and  drew  Billy  beside  her.  It  was  he 
who  reached  for  her  hand  this  time,  and  held  to  it. 

"  I  did  the  best  I  could  for  you,  Billy.  I  told 
her  how  sorry  you  were  and  how  broken-hearted, 
and  after  I  had  pleaded  with  her,  for  half  an  hour, 
to  forgive  you,  I  asked  for  permission  to  bring  you 
up;  but  she  said,  no,  you  could  not  come." 

A  sharp  intake  of  the  breath,  and  the  hand 
which  held  Geraldine's  closed  with  such  convulsive 
strength  that  she  almost  cried  out  with  pain. 

"Poor  little  Tavy!"  That  was  his  first 
thought,  and  that  was  what  the  convulsive  clutch 
of  his  hand  had  meant.  Geraldine  recognized  it, 
and  she  felt  her  lips  stiffen.  She  had  at  first  in- 
terpreted that  clutch  as  pain  for  himself. 

"  Poor  little  Tavy,"  she  repeated.  "  Of  course 
it  hurt  her,  Billy.  No  girl  likes  to  be  humiliated; 
but,  if  I  were  you,  I'd  let  the  matter  rest  a  week 
or  two;  then  I'll  go  up  again,  if  you  wish,  and 
make  another  attempt." 

"  Will  you !  "  The  tone  was  as  eager  as  if  it 
had  been  the  first  time  she  had  proposed  to  go. 
He  had  no  pride,  none  whatever! 


212  THE  ENEMY 

"  Of  course  I  will,  but  I  don't  like  to.  Frankly, 
Billy,  I  had  all  I  could  do  to  keep  from  saying 
what  I  thought.  I  don't  care  for  people  who  are 
unforgiving  to  my  friends.  Let's  don't  talk  about 
it  any  more.  Tell  me  about  your  business." 

He  was  heavily  plodding  through  the  details 
of  structural  iron  work,  when  Three-B  Benning 
lounged  into  the  library  and  shook  hands  heartily. 
There  was  no  resentment  in  Three-B  Benning  that 
Billy  had  once  made  a  fool  of  himself  in  this 
house,  nor  was  there  any  either  in  Mrs.  Benning 
when  she  presently  joined  them,  rustling  in  her  stiff 
silk,  and  beaming  in  motherly  affection.  Billy  had 
not  been  with  them  much  of  late,  and  they  missed 
him.  How  good  it  was  to  be  among  old  friends, 
and  what  a  jolly  little  home-like  dinner  party  it 
was.  Billy  enjoyed  it  very  much;  but  he  left  at 
half-past  nine. 

First  of  all,  as  soon  as  he  reached  the  city,  he 
took  a  spin  down  the  Drive.  The  windows  in  the 
bay  were  lighted,  but  there  was  no  one  visible  in 
them,  though  once  a  shadow  crossed  the  curtains ! 
The  shadow  lacked  definition,  so  that  he  could  not 
tell  whether  it  was  Tavy  or  Mrs.  Stuart  who  had 
passed.  He  had  never  been  able  to  tell,  on  any  of 
the  nights  he  had  come  up  here ! 

Oh!  if  he  could  only  see  her,  if  he  could  only 


THE  ENEMY  213 

stand  at  a  distance  and  gaze  on  her,  it  would  be 
something  to  ease  this  intense  longing  which  was  in 
his  heart !  If  he  only  could  arrange  to  have  some 
one  take  her  to  the  theater,  so  that  he  could  have 
even  Hal's  hungry  privilege  of  the  opera  glasses ! 
Poor  Hal.  This  treat  was  cut  off  from  him,  too, 
now.  It  was  one  more  of  the  black  consequences 
piled  up  on  Billy's  head. 

He  must  see  her!  The  lights  went  out  in  the 
bay  window  up  there,  and  it  might  have  soothed 
him  some  to  know,  though  it  would  have  hurt  him, 
too,  that,  when  Tavy  went  back  into  the  delf  and 
white  room,  she  kneeled  by  her  bed  and  bowed  her 
head  on  her  arms,  and  longed  and  longed  for  a 
sight  of  Billy  as  he  longed  for  a  sight  of  her! 
Ashes  are  a  light  covering  with  which  to  hide  a 
heart,  Tavy,  and  there  are  hearts  which  must  still 
ache,  no  matter  how  deeply  they  are  buried. 

Morning.  Three  times  a  week,  at  ten-thirty, 
Tavy  hurries  off  for  her  music  lesson.  Just  across 
the  Drive,  at  the  corner  where  she  takes  the  stage, 
are  some  steps  leading  down  the  bank.  There  is 
a  sort  of  forlorn  park  there,  with  many  steep  little 
winding  paths  and  innumerable  steps  to  go  up  and 
go  down,  and  feeble  shrubbery,  and  a  general  air 
of  making  the  best  of  things.  Perhaps  there  is 
something  in  the  very  forlornness  of  the  hillside 


2i4  THE  ENEMY 

retreat  which  appeals  to  Tavy,  and  perhaps  it  is 
because  she  has  so  few  opportunities  to  be  quite 
alone  with  her  endless  task  of  ash  heaping,  but, 
whenever  there  is  no  stage  in  sight,  she  wanders 
down  for  a  five  minutes'  stroll  around  the  poor 
little  fountain,  and  sometimes  even  sits  on  one  of 
the  starved  looking  benches. 

To-day,  she  rounds  the  little  clump  of  shrubbery 
toward  the  fountain,  her  eyes  cast  to  the  ground, 
and  her  thoughts  sombre  with  the  weight  of  that 
endless  task  which  she  has  taken  upon  herself,  and 
which  she  has  begun  to  fear  will  never  quite  cease. 
It  is  a  sombre  day,  too,  with  the  sky  grayly  over- 
cast and  a  gray  mist  in  the  air.  Just  on  the  other 
side  of  the  shrubbery,  near  the  fountain,  is  a  tall 
young  man  gazing  straight  up  through  the 
branches.  This  is  a  splendid  spot  which  he  has 
found.  Whenever  he  has  a  half  hour  to  spend,  he 
can  look  up  at  those  windows,  on  the  block  beyond, 
without  being  conspicuous. 

Suddenly,  as  Tavy  rounds  the  corner,  she  looks 
up  from  the  ground  and  the  tall  young  man  looks 
down  from  the  windows,  and  the  gray  skies  dis- 
appear, and  all  the  world  is  flooded  with  radiance, 
and  a  certain  heart  scatters  its  ashes  as  if  they 
were  nothing,  and  goes  pounding  away  at  a  furious 
rate.  Why,  in  all  the  universe  there  is  no  such 


With  a  cry  of  rapture,  they  are  clasped  in  each  other's  arms. 


THE  ENEMY  215 

thing  as  tragedy,  or  sorrow,  or  sombre  thought; 
nothing  but  joy,  music,  youth,  flaming  color,  love ! 
"  Billy!  Tavy!  "  The  two  words  are  simul- 
taneous; they  are  exultant.  For  only  a  moment 
they  stand  and  feast  the  eyes  which  had  been  so,  so 
hungry,  and  then,  with  a  cry  of  rapture,  they  are 
clasped  in  each  other's  arms,  clasped  close,  as  if 
nothing  should  ever  part  them  again ! 


CHAPTER  XX 

A   FRIENDLY   CALL 

IHERE  was  a  thrilling  air  of  secrecy  in 
Mike  Dowd's  Sink,  and  Mike,  watching 
the  four  lone  survivors  of  the  winter  con- 
clave, lowered  his  yellow  mustache  in  suspicion  and 
contemplatively  fingered  his  bungstarter.  There 
was  something  doing,  but  the  nature  of  it  required 
such  unusual  preparations  that  Mike,  in  all  his  ex- 
perience, could  find  nothing  upon  which  to  base  a 
theory.  For  a  week  there  had  been  furtive  whis- 
perings among  Jerry-the-Limp,  Piggy  Marshall, 
Red  Whitey  and  Tank  Tonkey.  This  whispering 
might  mean  anything  from  a  raid  on  a  peanut 
stand  to  the  murder  of  a  friend.  But  what  did 
it  mean  when  Piggy  Marshall,  who  had  never 
been  known  to  wear  any  other  neck  adornment 
than  a  blue  gingham  shirt  with  the  top  button  open, 
suddenly  produced  from  his  pocket  a  tight  little 
roll  in  clean  yellow  paper,  and  proceeded,  with 
many  painful  jerks  and  much  reddening  of  the  face, 
to  don  a  phenomenally  low  turn-down  collar  of 

216 


THE  ENEMY  217 

phenomenal  whiteness,  and  a  crisp  little  black  and 
red  bow  tie,  which  was  ready  made  and  snapped 
on  with  a  hook?  What  did  it  mean  when  Tank 
Tonkey,  in  like  solemn  manner,  donned  a  like 
snow-white  collar  and  attached  a  ready-made  four- 
in-hand  of  violent  blue  ?  What  did  it  mean  when 
Jerry-the-Limp  produced,  from  a  flat  parcel  under 
his  arm,  a  waiter's  white  dickey  of  glistening  cel- 
luloid, and  buttoned  it  under  his  vest,  presenting, 
in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  a  startling  transforma- 
tion from  a  poor,  suffering,  poverty-stricken  crip- 
ple to  a  gentleman  of  means,  in  a  spotless  white 
shirt  front  and  a  substantial  black  bow  tie  ?  What 
did  it  mean  when  Red  Whitey,  decorated  in  a 
green  tie,  went  back  to  the  tap  and  washed  his 
face? 

"  What  have  you  guys  turned  up?  "  demanded 
Mike  Dowd,  his  curiosity  at  last  past  bearing. 

"  Oh,  nothin'."  It  was  Jerry-the-Limp  who 
gave  this  nonchalant  reply;  Jerry,  who  had  ad- 
justed every  cravat  and  critically  inspected  it,  who 
had  turned  up  Piggy  Marshall's  trousers  band,  so 
that  it  did  not  lop  in  a  ragged  gray  edged  line 
over  the  top  of  his  belt,  who  had  sent  Red  Whitey 
shuffling  sullenly  back  to  wash  his  face  a  second 
time,  with  instructions  to  use  soap  and  a  brick  or 
quit  the  party.  Jerry,  even  now,  was  going  nerv- 


218  THE  ENEMY 

ously  from  one  to  the  other  of  his  forces,  and  or- 
dering the  adjustment  of  buttons. 

"  Here,  you  bum,"  Jerry  commanded  Piggy 
Marshall;  "  didn't  I  tell  you  to  wet  your  hair  when 
you  combed  it?  " 

"  Nothin',  eh !  "  growled  Mike,  viewing  the 
resplendent  quartette  askance.  "  If  you  stiffs  pull 
anything  phoney  around  this  corner  and  get  the 
Chicago  Buffet  in  bad,  I'll  pike  you !  " 

"Aw,  give  that  stuff  the  double  bell,  Mike," 
husked  Piggy  Marshall,  lounging  over  against  the 
bar  and  twisting  his  neck  to  a  comfortable  settling 
in  his  collar.  "  We're  just  goona  call  on  a 
friend." 

"  Oh,"  and  Mike's  yellow  mustache  went  up. 
"  The  Tombs  or  the  Island?  " 

Tank  Tonkey,  his  eyes  bulging  from  the  en- 
forced position  of  his  head,  turned  with  the  proper 
indignation  of  a  respectable  citizen,  though  to  cast 
his  scorn  on  Mike  he  was  compelled  to  turn  his 
entire  body. 

"  Can't  a  guy  have  friends  that  never  cracked 
a  rock?"  he  demanded.  "This  friend  o' 
ours " 

"  Shut  your  yawp,  you  fat  slob !  "  suddenly 
blazed  Jerry-the-Limp.  "  If  I  hear  another  rum- 
ble out  of  you,  I'll  cave  in  your  hoops !  "  and  he 


THE  ENEMY  219 

shook  a  'bony  fist  at  the  offending  brother.  "  Red, 
ain't  you  got  that  map  scraped  yet?  " 

"  You  go  to  hell !  "  yelled  the  suffering  Red 
Whitey  from  back  at  the  tap.  "  I  got  soap  in  my 
eye!" 

"  You  don't  know  how  to  use  it,"  scorned  Jerry. 
"  Come  on,  or  we'll  drop  you  off  the  wagon.  Two 
slugs  and  two  scuttles,  Mike,"  and,  with  the  reck- 
lessly extravagant  air  which  went  with  his  celluloid 
shirt  front  and  black  bow  tie,  he  counted  a  dime,  a* 
nickel  and  five  pennies,  on  the  bar. 

Red  Whitey,  with  one  eye  closed  and  his  face 
rasped  to  the  color  of  his  beard,  came  hurrying 
forward,  leaving  a  stream  of  profanity  behind  him, 
and  seized  his  "  scuttle  of  suds,"  the  same  being  a 
glass  of  beer;  and  the  four,  in  solemn  line,  drank 
their  parting  drinks,  leaving  Mike  Dowd  mys- 
tified to  the  point  of  whittling  a  ring  around  his 
mallet  handle. 

It  was  Jerry-the-Limp  who  led  the  way,  strid- 
ing along  with  an  appearance  of  great  briskness, 
which,  however,  made  but  little  headway,  with 
Piggy  Marshall  beside  him  and  Red  Whitey  and 
Tank  Tonkey  following.  They  trudged  up  the 
Bowery,  in  the  blighting  shadow  of  the  elevated 
tracks,  and  over  to  Broadway,  and  far  up  town, 
a  procession  with  a  sedate  purpose  and  stolid  de- 


220  THE  ENEMY 

cision,  their  eyes  popping,  and  their  faces  redden- 
ing from  the  cramping  of  their  stiff  collars,  but 
their  destination  fixed  inexorably  in  their  minds! 

Past  the  wholesale  district,  past  the  dry  goods 
section,  past  the  hotel  quarter,  and  up  near  the 
theater  district,  where  at  last  they  turned  in,  with 
the  unbreathed  ease  of  them  who  have  traversed 
continents,  at  one  of  the  old  office  buildings.  Just 
before  they  entered  the  lobby,  Jerry-the-Limp 
drew  up  his  cohorts  for  a  final  word  of  instruction, 
while  a  near-by  policeman  wondered  whether  or 
not  he  should  trouble  himself. 

"  Now,  look  here,  you  boneheads,  listen  to  me. 
When  you  drill  into  this  dump,  hold  your  heads 
up  and  don't  look  at  the  janitor.  Just  pass  him 
right  by,  because  if  he  ever  catches  your  eye,  he'll 
give  you  the  run.  Follow  me,  and  throw  a  bluff 
you  got  business  where  you're  goin'.  Do  you  get 
me?" 

"  Shoot,"  rumbled  Tank  Tonkey,  his  chin  ele- 
vated, and  a  ridge  of  white  numbness  coming  in 
his  neck  where  it  bound  against  his  collar. 

"  Damn  soap !  "  snarled  Red  Whitey,  rubbing 
his  knuckle  in  his  eye. 

"  Well,  when  we  get  where  we're  goin',"  went 
on  Jerry,  "  stick  right  close  to  me,  and  don't  any 


THE  ENEMY  221 

of  you  butt  in  unless  I  give  you  a  stamp  on  the 
hoof.  That's  all.  Now!" 

With  this  word  of  command,  General  Jerry-the- 
Limp  led  his  troops  boldly  into  the  lobby,  and 
passed  the  elevator  starter  in  unquestioned  safety, 
and  turned  into  the  open  car  and  lined  up  against 
the  back  wall  in  silent  stiffness. 

"  Twelf !  "  shrilled  General  Jerry,  as  the  car 
shot  upward.  Tank  Tonkey  was  holding  his 
huge  middle  with  anxious  care,  and  Red  Whitey's 
knees  were  bent  under  him.  Red  had  not  ven- 
tured beyond  the  Bowery  in  years,  and  this  was  a 
foreign  land.  He  wondered  if  the  elevator  boy 
had  money,  and  would  be  good  for  a  two  gitney 
touch;  but  the  motion  was  too  swift  for  proper 
work. 

"  Now !  "  again  said  Jerry-the-Limp,  as  they 
emerged  on  the  twelfth  floor.  It  was  a  word  of 
reassurance  as  well  as  command,  for  Red  Whitey 
was  already  showing  signs  of  weakening,  and 
seemed  unanxious  to  leave  the  elevator. 

For  only  a  moment  General  Jerry  paused  be- 
fore the  office  door  of  William  Lane,  Engineering 
Architect,  then  he  boldly  opened  and  entered,  and 
the  snubnosed  office  boy,  who  still  felt  that  heredi- 
tary instinct  for  rod  and  line  and  hook  and  worm, 


222  THE  ENEMY 

was  astounded  to  see  confronting  him  the  four 
most  remarkable  visitors  who  had  ever  infested 
that  reception  room.  He  was  a  city-bred  boy, 
however,  and  he  knew  exactly  what  to  do.  He 
bristled  straight  up  to  the  gate  of  the  low  railing, 
and  barred  the  way  of  the  entire  four.  He  came 
about  to  Tank  Tonkey's  middle  shirt  button. 

"  What  do  you  want?  "  he  demanded. 

"Is  Mr.  Doe  in?"  The  voice  of  Jerry-the- 
Limp,  a  wheedling  voice,  a  voice  intended  to  be 
suave,  but  which  ended  in  a  whine. 

"  What  do  you  want?  " 

Red  Whitey,  catching  the  sweeping  eye  of  the 
snubnosed  boy  on  him,  followed  the  line  of  the 
ceiling,  as  far  as  he  could  see  it,  in  both  direc- 
tions, and  then  studiously  inspected  the  rug.  He 
was  most  uncomfortable.  Jerry-the-Limp,  how- 
ever, was  unruffled.  He  was  sure  of  his  ground. 

"  Just  tell  Mr.  Doe  it's  some  friends  dropped 
in  to  call  on  him." 

The  boy  was  city-bred.  He  studied  the  four 
friends  of  Mr.  Doe  with  frankly  admiring  in- 
credulity, and  then  the  snub  nose  seemed  to  spread, 
in  sympathy  with  his  suppressed  grin. 

"Cards,  please,"  he  requested. 

Jerry-the-Limp,  given  much  to  impulsiveness, 
suddenly  leaned  forward  and  snarled  in  the  boy's 


THE  ENEMY  223 

face,  and  the  boy  stepped  back,  startled  by  that 
ghastly  mask. 

"  The  names'll  do,  you!  "  he  shrilled.  "  You 
tell  Doe  it's  Jerry-the-Limp !  He'll  be  right 
out!" 

For  a  moment  the  boy  stood,  stunned,  and  then, 
looking  backwards  at  the  friendly  callers,  with 
their  shiny  buttons  and  their  frowsy  crumpled 
clothing,  and  their  startlingly  contrasting  collars 
and  cravats,  he  went  into  the  office  of  John  Doe, 
where  he  found  Billy's  partner  bending,  with  pleas- 
ant absorption,  over  an  intricate  roof  drawing. 
He  had  a  fine  problem  here  to  solve,  a  delicate, 
complicated  problem,  where  safety  and  grace  must 
be  combined. 

"  Out  with  it,  Major."  He  smiled  down  with 
good  comradeship. 

"  Some  callers  for  you,  Mr.  Doe.  I  didn't  tell 
'em  you  was  in.  One  of  'em  says  his  name  is 
Jerry-the-Limp."  The  boy  saw  the  face  of  John 
Doe  turn  deathly  pale,  he  saw  his  lean  hands  grip 
the  edge  of  his  drawing-board,  he  saw  the  eyes 
half  close;  then  he  saw  the  head  come  up,  and 
John  Doe  was  smiling  down  at  him  again. 

"  Jerry-the-Limp,  eh?  "  He  spoke  slowly,  and 
as  if  his  tongue  were  slightly  thickened,  but  he 
smiled.  "  Well,  show  them  in,  Major,"  then, 


224  THE  ENEMY 

as  the  door  closed,  he  reached  for  a  glass  of  water, 
and  stood  gathering  himself  for  the  indignity. 

"Hello,  Bow-Wow!"  hailed  Jerry-the-Limp 
cheerily,  as  he  came  into  the  little  private  office. 

John  Doe  stood  silently  until  the  four  had  clus- 
tered into  the  room. 

"  You  will  not  use  that  name  here,"  he  said 
quietly.  "Now,  why  have  you  come?" 

"  Just  a  friendly  little  call,  Pal,"  and  Jerry-the- 
Limp  grinned  confidently  up  at  him.  '  We 
thought  you'd  like  to  see  some  of  your  old  buddies 
from  down  at  the  Sink." 

"  You  came  for  money,  I  suppose." 

Tank  Tonkey  smiled  pleasantly;  Piggy  Mar- 
shall chuckled  in  his  throat;  Red  Whitey  rubbed 
his  knuckles  in  his  eye,  but  his  other  eye  looked 
pleased. 

"  Well,  Brother,"  returned  Jerry-the-Limp,  still 
grinning  his  impudent  grin,  "  I  wouldn't  have  men- 
tioned it  myself,  right  off  the  bat  this  way,  till  we'd 
chatted  a  while  about  old  times,  but,  if  you  want 
to  help  your  old  pals  a  little  bit,  why,  we  ain't 
too  proud  to  accept  assistance."  Jerry  ended 
with  another  grin,  and  just  to  show  that  he  was  at 
ease,  he  put  one  foot  on  a  chair  and  leaned  on  his 
knee,  whereat  the  bottom  of  his  celluloid  dickey 
popped  out  of  his  vest. 


THE  ENEMY  225 

John  Doe  slowly  paced  the  length  of  his  little 
office;  and  Red  Whitey,  watching  his  erect  car- 
riage, his  straightly  poised  head,  his  neatly  cropped 
silver  Vandyke,  and  the  marked  distinction  of  his 
face,  tugged  at  Jerry-the-Limp's  coat  and  huskily 
whispered. 

"  Are  you  sure  he's  the  right  guy?  " 

"  Shut  your  yawp !  "  growled  Jerry-the-Limp. 
"He  didn't  deny  it,  did  he?" 

With  sudden  decision,  Doe  sat  at  his  desk  and 
leafed  through  his  'phone  book,  and  called  a  num- 
ber. 

"  Is  this  Mike  Dowd?  "  he  asked. 

The  effect  of  that  simple  question  was  magical ! 
Tank  Tonkey,  who  was  never  comfortable  stand- 
ing, leaned  against  the  wall  with  a  thump  which 
jarred  the  pictures,  and  he  held  his  middle;  Piggy 
Marshall  tried  to  stick  his  finger  between  his  col- 
lar and  his  throat;  Red  Whitey  half  opened  the 
door,  so  he  could  have  quick  egress  if  needed, 
and  stood  listening,  with  his  face  fish-white  where 
it  gleamed  through  his  red  whiskers;  Jerry-the- 
Limp,  with  active  concern  on  his  weazened  face, 
hurried  over  to  the  desk. 

"  For  the  love  of  Pete,  whacha  goona  do,  Bow- 
Wow!  "  he  implored. 

"  Just  a  moment,  Mr.  Dowd."     John  Doe  set 


226  THE  ENEMY 

down  the  receiver,  and  turned  on  Jerry-the-Limp 
a  face  so  full  of  command  that  the  poor  suffering 
cripple  drew  up  his  leg  instinctively  to  limp.  "  I 
told  you  not  to  call  me  by  that  name,"  he  said 
sternly.  "  You  used  it  once  before  when  I  was 
in  Mr.  Dowd's  saloon.  I  warn  you  not  to  utter 
the  syllables  again.  Stand  back  there !  " 

Jerry-the-Limp,  with  a  droop  in  his  lips,  turned 
to  find  the  eyes  of  his  cohorts  glaring  coldly  upon 
him. 

"  Honest,  Mr.  Doe,  if  you  turn  us  up  to 
Mike " 

Doe  held  up  his  hand,  and  Jerry-the-Limp,  not 
quite  knowing  why,  stopped. 

"  This  is  John  Doe,  Mr.  Dowd,"  he  said  into 
the  'phone.  "  If  you  will  remember  when  I  was 
in  your  place  not  long  ago,  a  man  who  pretended 
to  be  a  cripple  claimed  acquaintance  with  me,  un- 
der the  name  of  Bow- Wow." 

The  four  afternoon  callers,  huddled  near  the 
doorway  in  two  groups,  of  three  callers  and  one 
caller,  heard  a  harsh  voice  crackling  and  snapping 
in  the  'phone. 

"  Yes,  they're  here,"  returned  Doe,  with  a 
smile.  "  I  merely  called  you  up,  Mr.  Dowd,  to 
ask  your  advice  as  to  what  to  do  with  them." 

The  answer  of  Mike  Dowd  was  so  short,  so 


THE  ENEMY  227 

clean-cut,  and  so  vigorous,  that  every  person  in 
the  room  could  hear  it. 

"KiU'em!" 

A  lot  more  came  over  the  wire,  not  all  the  words 
were  distinguishable  and  not  all  were  printable, 
but  enough  could  be  gleaned,  even  by  the  caller 
nearest  the  door,  whose  red  whiskers  seemed  to  be 
curling  tighter,  to  know  that  Mike  Dowd  promised 
to  get  Mr.  Doe  out  of  any  consequences  of  his  act 
if  he  killed  them,  or,  if  he  didn't  want  to  mess  his 
hands  with  them,  merely  to  send  them  down  to 
the  Sink,  and  Mike  would  do  the  job. 

"  Thank  you,"  returned  Mr.  Doe,  and  hung  up 
the  receiver;  then  he  faced  his  callers.  "Get 
out." 

The  tone  was  not  vociferous,  it  was  not  extraor- 
dinarily vigorous  even,  but  there  was  such  calm 
and  firm  decision  about  it  that  the  callers  got  out; 
and,  as  they  closed  the  door  behind  them,  John 
Doe  sunk  limply  on  his  desk,  sprawled  there, 
crushed,  humiliated,  shamed  I 

"  You're  a  fine  fathead !  "  growled  Piggy  Mar- 
shall, as  they  jostled  out  through  the  reception- 
room.  He  was  already  taking  off  his  collar,  and 
tearing  it  in  the  process. 

"  Didn't  I  tell  you  you  didn't  know  the  gent?  " 
demanded  Red  Whitey,  who  was  well  in  the  lead. 


228  THE  ENEMY 

The  snub-nosed  office  boy  was  opening  the  outer 
door  for  them. 

"  For  a  handful  of  butts  I'd  croak  you !  "  husked 
Tank  Tonkey  vindictively,  as  they  clustered  in 
front  of  the  elevator.  "  You  had  a  fine  frame- 
up,  didn't  you?  Oh,  yes!  We'd  come  up  here 
—  say,  do  you  know  what  this  outfit  cost  me?" 
and  he  shook  the  collar  and  the  violent  blue  tie 
at  Jerry-the-Limp.  "  Nineteen  cents !  Now  you 
buy  it!" 

"  Do  you  suppose  I  want  to  play  circus  ? " 
snarled  Jerry-the-Limp,  looking  at  the  white  cir- 
cle with  aversion.  "  Ain't  you  sport  enough  to 
invest  that  much  in  a  big  gamble  like  this  ?  Why, 
all  we  had  to  do " 

"  Yes,  we  did !  "  Tank  Tonkey  again.  He 
was  too  heavy  to  give  himself  much  to  wrath,  but 
when  he  did,  it  was  deadly.  "  All  we  had  to  do 
was  to  smoke  your  hop,  and  think  this  millionaire 
sport  was  Bow-Wow,  and  we  could  milk  him  for 
the  rest  of  our  lives!  Oh,  yes,  we  did!  "  Tank 
Tonkey's  rage  was  rising  in  proportion  to  his 
weight.  "  I'll  lean  on  you,  you  shrimp !  " 

"  Shut  your  yawps,  you  boneheads !  "  shrilly 
yelled  Jerry-the-Limp,  wheeling  on  his  followers 
with  fierce  command,  but  he  saw  in  their  cold  eyes 
that  his  moral  force  was  shattered  and  his  leader- 


THE  ENEMY  229 

ship  gone;  and  he  had  instant  proof  of  it  when 
Red  Whitey,  without  a  word  of  warning,  suddenly 
pranced  up  and  kicked  him  on  the  shin. 

"  Say!  "  growled  Piggy  Marshall;  "  don't  any 
of  these  elevators  stop  on  this  floor  1  " 

A  messenger  boy  stepped  up  to  the  row  of  ele- 
vators and  pressed  a  button,  and  the  next  car 
flashed  its  red  light.  It  was  fairly  crowded,  and, 
as  they  thronged  in,  Jerry-the-Limp  found  himself 
forced  violently  into  the  periphery  of  Tank  Ton- 
key. 

"  Get  out  of  me !  "  wheezed  Tank,  his  voice 
made  shrill  by  compression.  "  Step  away  or  I'll 
bat  you !  " 

"Paste  him  one  for  me,  Tank!"  requested 
Piggy  Marshall. 

"  I  will,  so  help  me,  the  minute  I  get  room  to 
swing  an  arm !  "  and  in  Tank's  reddened  eyes  there 
came  a  savage  gleam.  "  Push  back,  I  tell  you!  " 

"Get  off  my  foot!"  Piggy  Marshall.  He, 
too,  was  losing  his  temper. 

At  that  moment  the  elevator  stopped  at  the  main 
floor,  and  Jerry-the-Limp,  feeling  that  the  height 
of  his  unpopularity  had  arrived,  popped  out  of  the 
door,  with  a  real  limp.  He  might  have  gotten 
away  clear,  but  the  elevator  starter,  seeing  him  run, 
grabbed  him  by  the  coat.  That  was  no  way  to  de- 


230  THE  ENEMY 

tain  Jerry-the-Limp,  for  his  arms  were  out  of  the 
sleeves  in  an  instant,  and,  leaving  the  coat  in  the 
starter's  hands,  he  darted  through  the  lobby,  in 
his  blue  shirt  sleeves,  with  his  celluloid  dickey  stick- 
ing straight  out  in  front  of  him  and  his  black  bow 
tie  slipped  around  under  his  ear.  That  second 
of  delay,  however,  had  been  disastrous,  for  it 
enabled  Red  Whitey  to  catch  him  round  the  neck, 
at  the  curb,  and,  in  two  seconds  more,  Tank  Ton- 
key  and  Piggy  Marshall  were  upon  him ! 

It  took  two  policemen  to  drag  Jerry-the-Limp 
from  under  his  cohorts;  and  the  last  that  admir- 
ing Broadway  saw  of  General  Jerry  and  his  army, 
they  were  whizzing  away  in  a  patrol  wagon,  still 
snarling. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

TOMMY    TINKLE    GOES   A-PEDDLING 

MRS.  STUART  smiled  as  she  opened  the 
door,    for  the  young  man  who  stood 
there,  with  a  portfolio  of  sketches  under 
his  arm  and  a  whimsical  grin  on  his  wide  lips,  was 
Tommy  Tinkle. 

"Any  water-color  drawings  to-day,  madam; 
any  oil  portraits  to  paint;  any  white-washing  to 
do?" 

"  Step  in,  and  I'll  look  around,"  invited  Mrs. 
Stuart,  very  glad  indeed  that  he  had  come,  for 
smiling  was  rather  rare,  these  days,  in  the  Stuart 
apartments. 

"  Thank  you."  Tommy  hung  his  hat  on  the 
hall  tree  in  the  vestibule,  and  lounged  into  the 
pink  and  gray  parlor,  and  laid  his  portfolio  on 
the  table,  picked  him  a  chair  in  the  bay  window, 
and  reached  for  his  cigarette  case.  "  A  certain 
beautiful  young  lady  is  not  at  home,  I  suppose. 
Do  you  mind  if  I  smoke?  Foggy  weather  we're 
having." 

231 


232  THE  ENEMY 

"  Tavy  is  at  her  music  lesson,  and  you  know 
you  may  smoke,  and  I  think  we  shall  have  some 
rain,  and  won't  you  sit  down."  It  was  good  to 
hear  her  laugh,  although  the  mirth  did  not  extend 
as  far  as  her  patient  eyes. 

Tommy  drew  Mrs.  Stuart's  chair  into  a  more 
pleasant  view  for  her,  and  waited  until  she  had 
seated  herself,  and  reached  for  his  portfolio. 

"  I've  been  doing  some  serious  portrait  work," 
he  observed.  "  How  is  this  one?  " 

Mrs.  Stuart  gave  a  little  gasp  of  delight. 

"  Tavy!  "  she  cried.  Tavy  it  was,  glossy  black 
hair,  oval  cheeks,  slender,  graceful  neck,  and,  most 
marvelous  of  all,  the  dark  gray  eyes  had  within 
them  a  hint  of  their  susceptibility  to  change 
through  violet  to  blue !  It  was  a  happy  Tavy 
who  smiled  up  at  Mrs.  Stuart  from  the  clean  white 
page,  but  Tommy,  with  that  fidelity  which  sees  be- 
neath, had  caught  the  trace  of  inborn  wistfulness 
in  the  eyes. 

"  Pretty  fine,  from  memory  and  sketches," 
bragged  Tommy,  cocking  his  head  on  one  side  to 
admire  his  own  work.  "  The  Hudson  River,  Mrs. 
Stuart,  flows  down  through  the  State  of  New  York 
in  an  almost  directly  north  and  south  line  for  the 
more  important  part  of  its  course.  On  its  broad 
bosom  floats  a  wealth  of  commerce.  The  next 


THE  ENEMY  233 

portrait  is  of  a  lady  whom  all  must  revere  and 
admire,  and  whom  to  know  is  a  privilege,"  and  he 
turned  the  leaf,  glancing  nonchalantly  at  the  ceil- 
ing. "  Lady  Stuart." 

"  You  flatter  with  your  brushes  as  well  as  with 
your  tongue,  I'm  afraid,"  protested  Mrs.  Stuart, 
pleased  nevertheless,  for  Tommy  had  limned  her 
in  one  of  those  rarer  moments,  during  her  recent 
happiness,  when  she  had  redeveloped  the  mischief 
which  accounted  for  some  of  the  imps  in  Tavy's 
eyes. 

"  You  speak  but  to  charm,"  rattled  on  Tommy. 
"  The  shores  of  the  many  bays  and  inlets  in  the 
vicinity  of  New  York  are  the  most  interestingly 
populated  of  any  city  in  the  world.  Into  New 
York  Harbor  come  ships  from  every  clime.  This 
is  Geraldine.  I  name  her  so  that  you  may  know 
for  whom  the  portrait  was  intended,  and  so  con- 
gratulate me.  The  next  is  the  artist  himself, 
painted  in  a  period  of  repose  and  just  on  the  point 
of  smoking  a  cigarette  with  easy  nonchalance. 
The  Atlantic  Ocean,  Mrs.  Stuart,  is  an  extremely 
large  body  of  water,  and  turning  the  page,  you  find 
yourself  gazing  on  the  manly  features  of  Billy 
Lane.  Handsome  chap,  isn't  he?  Mrs.  Stuart, 
we  have  now  arrived  at  the  object  of  my  visit." 
He  handed  her  the  last  named  portrait,  and  closed 


234  THE  ENEMY 

the  portfolio.  "  Now,  tell  me,  what  is  your  frank 
and  unbiased  opinion  of  Billy?  " 

She  did  not  answer  immediately,  although  she 
shot  at  him  a  swift  and  shrewd  glance.  There 
was  much  method  in  Tommy's  madness,  as  she  had 
long  since  divined.  She  studied  the  picture  for  a 
while  in  musing  silence.  It  was  an  excellent  por- 
trait of  Billy,  at  his  best,  wholesome,  honest,  hand- 
some, good-natured  Billy;  and  her  heart  went  out 
to  him,  as  it  always  had;  but  it  went  out  to  him 
now  in  sorrow  and  pity. 

"  I  like  Billy  very  much,"  she  admitted,  but  the 
smile  was  gone  from  her  face.  "  He  has  many 
noble  qualities." 

"  I  knew  you'd  say  that,"  Tommy  promptly  re- 
joined. "  Every  one  who  knows  him  must  say 
it.  Why  can't  he  come  back,  and  promise  to  be 
good,  and  be  forgiven?  " 

"  Please  don't,  Tommy,"  begged  Mrs.  Stuart 
soberly.  "  From  what  you  say,  I  judge  that  you 
know  what  happened  here,  and  if  you  know,  you 
already  understand  why  Billy  can  never  be  the 
same  to  us." 

"  Probably  not."  He  smiled  at  her  with  en- 
gaging frankness.  "  Billy  didn't  send  me,  but  I 
know  he  wouldn't  expect  to  be  quite  the  same  to 
you.  He  wouldn't  ask  a  full  restoration,  but  just 


THE  ENEMY  235 

a  crumb,  just  the  privilege  of  coming  up  here  once 
in  a  while  and  sitting  around." 

She  shook  her  head  sadly. 

"  It  wouldn't  do,  Tommy.  It  couldn't  be  kept 
to  that.  You  knew,  of  course,  that  Billy  and 
Tavy  were  very  fond  of  each  other." 

"  I  couldn't  help  knowing  it,"  and  the  whim- 
sical grin  flashed  on  Tommy's  face.  "  From  the 
minute  Billy  met  Tavy  he  made  a  nuisance  of 
himself.  If  I  asked  him  the  time,  he  told  me 
about  Tavy's  curls.  If  I  said  good-morning,  he 
told  me  about  her  eyes.  I've  never  seen  a  fellow 
so  foolish  about  a  girl.  And  now  if  you  could 
see  him,  Mrs.  Stuart,  you'd  pity  the  boy.  He's 
all  broken  up,  he's  pale  and  hollow-eyed,  he  can't 
eat,  he  can't  sleep,  he  can't  do  anything  but  just 
moon  around  and  want  to  see  Tavy.  I'm  serious, 
Mrs.  Stuart.  Billy's  my  best  friend,  and  I'll  ad- 
mit that  he  needed  a  punishment.  But  he's  had 
it.  Give  us  a  chance,  won't  you?  Just  let  Billy 
and  me  come  up  here  for  five  minutes  at  a  time, 
and  sit  in  a  corner  and  say  nothing,  just  look  and 
go  away.  I'll  even  put  blinkers  on  Billy,  if  you 
say  so.  I'll " 

She  stopped  him  with  a  smile  of  infinite  sad- 
ness. 

"  What  you  say  only  makes  me  the  firmer  in 


236  THE  ENEMY 

my  determination.  I'm  sorry  that  he  has  suf- 
fered, but  the  mere  fact  that  he  thinks  so  much 
of  Tavy  makes  it  dangerous  for  him  to  come  here. 
I  would  not  torture  her  with  a  love  she  could  not 
enjoy,  nor  permit  her  to  marry  a  man  who  would 
be  bound  to  make  her  unhappy." 

Tommy  stiffened  a  trifle. 

"  Billy  would  make  no  girl  unhappy,"  he  stoutly 
maintained.  "  His  one  weakness  is  his  only  fault, 
but  I  personally  know  that  he  has  never  tried  to 
overcome  it.  He  has  never  had  occasion  to  do 
so  until  now.  He  has  not  taken  a  drink  since 
the  last  time  he  came  to  your  door.  He's  cured, 
and  all  he  needs  is  a  little  encouragement." 

Again  she  smiled  and  shook  her  head. 

"  I  could  not  trust  him.  I  have  seen  too  much 
of  what  that  weakness  leads  to.  I  have  seen  men 
stop  drinking  for  brief  periods,  and  sometimes 
quite  long  ones,  but  if  they  once  have  that  crav- 
ing they  never  are  quite  safe;  never,"  and  that  old 
bitterness  sprang  into  her  eyes. 

'*  That's  just  it ! "  Tommy's  voice  was  tri- 
umphant. "  Billy  has  no  craving,  and  I'll  swear 
to  it.  Here's  what  I  propose.  You  may  be 
making  a  serious  mistake.  If  Tavy  and  Billy 
think  so  much  of  each  other,  and  Billy  is  all  right, 
you'd  be  very  sorry  you  kept  them  apart.  ,You 


THE  ENEMY  237 

just  let  Billy  come  up  here,  now  and  then,  and 
watch  him.  If  he  makes  one  more  mistake,  just 
one,  turn  him  out.  I'll  help  you.  So  will  Billy." 
Adroit  Tommy.  He  saw,  as  she  glanced  down 
again  at  the  ingratiating  picture  of  Billy,  that 
there  was  no  wavering  in  her,  and  he  knew  better 
than  to  compel  a  refusal  which  would  be  final. 
He  went  abruptly  to  the  window.  "  What  a  queer 
government  boat.  Did  you  ever  see  one  like  it, 
Mrs.  Stuart?  "  He  pointed  it  out,  a  long,  low 
craft  with  a  myriad  of  angling  derricks,  which,  at 
that  distance,  looked  like  toothpicks.  He  relieved 
her  of  the  sketch,  as  she  stood  at  the  window. 
"  Will  you  and  Tavy  go  to  the  theater  with  me 
some  night  this  week?  " 

Again  she  laughed  at  him.  Tommy  Tinkle 
was  an  irresistible  cure  for  the  blues,  and  her  eyes 
softened  as  he  stood  looking  down  at  her.  She 
saw  through  Tommy.  She  saw  mournfulness  un- 
derneath his  mockery.  It  was  a  quality  she  could 
easily  distinguish  because  she  was  so  thoroughly 
acquainted  with  it. 

"  You'll  have  to  ask  Tavy  about  that."  Sud- 
denly her  eyes  narrowed.  "  You're  not  arranging 
for  us  to  meet  any  one  ?  "  The  shocked  look  on  his 
face  was  enough  answer.  "  Pardon  me,  Tommy." 

"  I'm  not  damaged  in  the  slightest,"  he  lightly 


23  8  THE  ENEMY 

assured  her.  "  How  soon  will  the  certain  beauti- 
ful young  lady  be  home?  " 

"  She  should  be  here  now,"  and  Mrs.  Stuart 
glanced  at  the  clock. 

"  Then  I'll  wait,"  and  Tommy  strolled  across 
to  the  piano.  He  had  a  habit  of  making  himself 
perfectly  at  home  everywhere  he  went.  He  had 
been  known  to  call  merely  because  he  liked  to  sit 
in  a  certain  chair  and  think.  He  opened  the  piano 
and  ran  his  fingers  over  the  keys.  "  I  have  de- 
cided Tavy  and  you  need  some  excitement. 
You've  been  cooped  up  here  too  much  since  Billy 
went  away.  If  you  won't  let  him  come  back,  I'll 
have  to  take  you  out  myself." 

He  leafed  over  some  music  and  pushed  it  aside, 
then  he  struck  into  a  gay  little  composition  of  his 
own,  a  whimsical  thing,  full  of  unexpected  turns, 
and  ending  with  a  crash  which  was  humor  itself 
caught  into  melody. 

"  You  always  seem  happy,"  mused  Mrs.  Stuart, 
studying  him  curiously. 

"  It's  about  the  only  good  thing  I  do,"  returned 
Tommy  soberly.  "  I  think  I'll  go  home." 

He  had  figured  it  all  out.  Before  he  left  the 
room,  he  managed  to  slip  the  portrait  of  Billy 
under  a  sheet  of  music  on  the  table.  They'd  find 
it  there  later. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

THE   VISION 

HAD  the  swine  walked  in  at  the  feast  to 
claim  acquaintance  with  the  prodigal  son, 
that  returned  wanderer  could  not  have 
been  more  startled  and  degraded  in  his  own  eyes 
than  was  John  Doe  at  the  appearance  of  his  one- 
time cronies  of  the  Bowery.  Revolting  ghosts 
from  his  besotted  past,  they  had  come  in  upon  him 
to  soil  the  cleanness  of  his  present  manhood. 
Why,  his  swine  were  there  before  he  had  even 
sat  at  the  feast,  before  the  fatted  calf  had  been 
killed;  and  he  shuddered  to  think  of  the  long  train 
of  persecution  which  had  threatened  him.  It  had 
been  his  impulse  to  share  with  these  unfortunates 
some  measure  of  his  prosperity,  but,  in  a  flash,  he 
had  seen  before  him  endless  extortion  which  would 
finish  only  with  his  death.  Let  him  go  where  he 
would,  these  vermin  would  find  him  out,  and  in- 
trude their  brazen  faces,  made  impudent  by  his 
helplessness,  into  the  finest  and  best  of  his  right- 
fully earned  surroundings.  The  one  glowing 

239 


24o  THE  ENEMY 

dream  of  his  life  centered  on  the  day  when,  freed 
from  all  his  clogs  and  encumbrances,  and  walking 
upright  in  the  mental  and  moral  and  spiritual  image 
of  God,  he  should  rejoin  Jean  and  Tavy!  Even 
into  that  sanctuary  these  foul  birds  of  carrion 
would  intrude;  would  present  their  frowsy  selves 
before  the  pure  eyes  of  his  wife  and  daughter,  and, 
clapping  him  on  the  shoulder,  call  him  brother  1 

No  man  may  escape  his  guilt.  He  cannot  hide 
himself  so  well  beneath  the  guise  of  respectability, 
the  shelter  of  wealth,  nor  the  wall  of  years,  but 
that,  at  some  unexpected  moment,  when  the  world 
seems  the  happiest  and  the  gayest  and  the  fullest 
of  radiant  promise,  his  old-time  sin  will  raise  its 
frightful  visage  above  the  horizon,  and  cover  all 
his  sky. 

That  beautiful  little  problem  in  roof  construc- 
tion, that  delicate  problem,  the  solution  of  which 
must  combine  strength  and  grace,  and  which  had 
promised  so  much  pleasure;  he  looked  upon  it  now 
with  aversion.  The  joy  was  gone  from  it,  as  all 
joy  from  this  hour  had  departed  from  him.  He 
put  on  his  coat  and  hat  and  left  the  office,  but, 
before  he  went,  he  considered  well  what,  if  any, 
moral  obligation  he  owed  to  his  old  companions, 
Jerry-the-Limp  and  Piggy  Marshall  and  Red 
Whitey  and  Tank  Tonkey.  If  it  be  the  obliga- 


THE  ENEMY  241 

tion  of  the  strong  to  protect  the  weak,  of  the  able 
to  feed  the  incompetent,  of  the  ambitious  to  supply 
the  lazy,  of  the  rich  to  support  the  poor,  then  he 
owed  a  debt  to  his  afore-time  brother  swine. 
Money  laid  in  their  hands  would  do  them  no  good, 
so  he  called  up  Mike  Dowd  again,  and,  much  to 
that  gentleman's  indignant  protest,  arranged  a 
fund  to  be  held  secretly  for  the  denizens  at  the 
Sink,  when  they  should  be  ill  or  in  trouble,  or  im- 
moderately thirsty.  Then,  his  conscience  washed 
of  this,  he  went  home  to  the  dim,  heavy  quiet  of 
Billy's  lounging-room. 

Burke  came  in  to  offer  his  services,  but,  being 
an  experienced  soldier  of  fortune,  he  discerned  in 
a  glance,  without  being  told,  that  John  Doe  would 
infinitely  prefer  to  be  alone;  so  Burke  quietly  ef- 
faced himself. 

The  old,  old  occupation,  the  one  which  came 
upon  him  at  every  untoward  turn  of  his  new  life ; 
self-analysis,  self-revilement,  deep,  deep  self-abase- 
ment; and  these  things  are  good  for  no  man 
except  for  a  momentary  acknowledgment  to 
strengthen  him.  Slowly,  inexorably,  he  went  back 
over  his  distorted  career,  trying  to  comprehend  by 
what  impossible  steps  he  had  slipped  into  the  de- 
grading annihilation  from  which  Billy  had  rescued 
him.  It  was  incredible!  He  could  not  see  how 


242  THE  ENEMY 

it  was  possible  for  any  man  of  brilliant  intellectual 
attainments,  of  notable  and  honorable  achievement, 
of  enviable  social  position,  of  rare,  high  fortune 
in  his  married  life,  to  forsake  all  these  things  for 
an  existence  of  foul  besottedness,  the  consequences 
of  which,  even  now,  after  the  miracle  which  had 
happened  to  him,  could  be  terrible.  Even  now 
his  soul  was  writhing  in  abject  misery.  Tavy  was 
miserable;  Jean  was  miserable;  Billy,  good,  kind 
Billy  who  had  brought  him  back  from  his  wretched 
oblivion,  was  miserable.  And  for  what  ?  All  for 
that  yellow  liquid  which  stood  in  the  decanter  at 
his  hand,  a  glass  beside  it. 

Whisky.  What  was  it?  A  taste  on  the 
tongue,  a  numbing  of  the  brain,  an  exhilaration  of 
the  blood,  and  then  a  paralysis  of  every  single 
thing,  physical,  mental,  and  moral,  which  is  the 
best  in  man;  a  paralysis  in  which  there  is  no  joy,  no 
happiness,  no  comfort.  Why!  Why  should  a 
man  voluntarily  subject  himself  to  this  debasement 
of  every  nobler  instinct,  of  every  finer  attribute, 
of  every  quality  he  holds  most  dear  I  It  was  mon- 
strous !  It  was  not  to  be  believed ! 

A  taste  upon  the  tongue,  a  numbing  of  the  brain, 
an  exhilarating  of  the  blood,  that  was  all.  There 
was  nothing  more  which  could  be  catalogued  as  a 
reason  for  tilting  that  decanter,  and  pouring  the 


THE  ENEMY  243 

pungent  yellow  liquid  into  a  glass  and  swallowing 
it.  That  was  all;  and  yet  men  gave  their  wealth, 
their  abilities,  their  families,  their  lives,  their  souls, 
to  tilt  that  decanter  and  pour  the  yellow  liquid 
into  the  glass,  and  swallow  it !  A  taste  upon  the 
tongue,  a  numbing  of  the  brain,  an  exhilaration 
of  the  blood.  John  Doe  reached  out  and  laid  his 
hand  upon  the  decanter. 

What  devil  of  perversity  had  seized  upon  him ! 
Why,  looking  this  inexplicable  enigma  calmly  and 
logically  in  the  face,  should  he  suddenly  be  impelled 
to  tilt  that  decanter  and  pour  the  yellow  liquid 
into  the  glass,  and  swallow  it?  Why,  knowing  all 
that  he  knew,  should  he  be  seized  with  a  sudden 
fierce  desire  to  feel  that  taste  upon  his  tongue,  to 
feel  those  numbing  fumes  ascending  into  his  brain? 
There  would  ensue  a  dizzy  discomfort,  a  revolt  of 
his  stomach,  a  thickening  of  his  tongue,  a  blearing 
of  his  eyes,  an  ugly  relaxation  of  all  his  facial 
muscles,  and  yet 

By  God,  he  must  have  it!  He  must!  That 
old  fever  of  desire  swept  upon  him  with  an  ir- 
resistible flood,  it  shook  him  from  head  to  foot, 
it  distended  his  eyes,  it  strained  the  leaders  of 
his  throat,  it  grasped  him  with  a  demoniacal 
frenzy!  He  must  have  it,  in  spite  of  all  knowl- 
edge, in  spite  of  all  reasoning,  in  spite  of  all  that 


244  THE  ENEMY 

he  held  most  dear,  in  spite  of  man,  in  spite  of  God ! 
There  was  no  reason  for  this,  there  was  no  ex- 
planation, there  was  no  possible  way  of  under- 
standing; but  he  must  feel  that  taste  upon  his 
tongue!  It  was  the  impulse  of  a  maniac,  of  a 
madman,  of  some  accursed  fiend  which  had  driven 
out  John  Doe  from  this  helpless  body,  and  urged 
it  to  its  destruction!  He  was  bent  and  crouched 
and  rigidly  tensed  in  every  in-curving  member, 
even  to  his  claw-like  fingers,  as,  with  widely  spread 
mouth  and  staring  eyes,  he  lifted  the  glass  and 
filled  it  to  the  brim,  and  raised  it,  trembling, 
toward  his  lips ! 

Tavy!  She  stood  just  before  him,  staring  in 
shocked  wonder,  her  luminous  gray  eyes  struggling 
between  surprise  and  reproach,  her  sweet  face 
pallid,  her  black  ringlets  clustering  about  her 
white  brow,  her  exquisitely  curved  lips,  which  had 
half  parted  in  a  smile  of  welcome,  now  stiffened. 
At  first  he  thought  that  the  beautiful  figure  in  the 
mouse-colored  frock  was  an  apparition ;  but  no,  it 
was  Tavy,  Tavy  herself,  Tavy  in  the  flesh !  Dur- 
ing the  whirl  of  his  mad  lunacy,  she  had  come  in 
at  the  door,  unnoticed,  and  Billy  now  followed  her. 
All  John  Doe's  tensed  muscles  relaxed,  and  from 
his  nerveless  fingers  he  dropped  the  glass ! 

After  such  a  whirlwind  of  passion  he  would 


THE  ENEMY  245 

normally  have  sunk  into  a  chair,  exhausted,  limp, 
but  there  had  come  a  new  and  an  even  more  power- 
ful stimulus.  This  was  his  daughter,  his  Tavy, 
one  of  the  two  images  which  he  had  held  before 
his  mind  by  night  and  by  day,  until  she,  with  Jean, 
had  become  a  part  of  all  his  mind,  of  all  his  soul, 
of  his  very  flesh  and  blood ! 

And  she  had  come  to  save  him!  She  had  ap- 
peared like  a  blessed  vision  sent  from  Heaven,  to 
stop  him  in  that  one  and  only  moment  when  his 
own  strength  had  not  been  sufficient  for  his  needs, 
to  stop  him  at  the  instant  when  he  was  about  to 
take  the  downward  plunge  into  that  hell  from 
which  he  could  never  again  arise !  In  that  he  saw 
the  finger  of  divine  intervention,  and  in  him  there 
welled  up  a  great  flood  of  gratitude,  which  swept 
away  all  that  cold  repression  he  had  for  so  long 
forced  upon  himself;  and,  as  he  looked  upon  her, 
as  the  great  change  came  over  him  which  brought 
him  back  from  the  distortion  wrought  by  the  fiend 
of  craving,  he  saw  her  eyes  soften  with  compassion 
and  her  lips  curve  with  the  smile  of  sweet  pity. 

"  Tavy!  "  The  cry  burst  from  him  in  an  agony 
of  love  and  longing.  "  My  little  Tavy!  "  and  he 
stretched  out  his  trembling  arms. 

For  a  startled  instant  she  turned  to  Billy,  her 
heart  beating  high  and  fast. 


246  THE  ENEMY 

"  He  is  your  father,  Tavy." 

Her  father!  At  first  she  could  not  compre- 
hend it.  Her  father!  She  was  dazed.  Then, 
as  the  full  significance  of  the  revelation  broke  upon 
her,  she  sprang  to  him.  She  was  in  his  arms  and 
sobbing  upon  his  shoulder,  and,  over  and  over, 
with  a  broken  voice,  and  the  tears  streaming  down 
his  white  cheeks,  he  was  calling  her  his  little  Tavy, 
his  little  Tavy,  his  little  Tavyl 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

SIDE   BY  SIDE 

FATHER  and  daughter!  What  transports 
they  knew  in  this  hour  of  their  re-union! 
They  were  so  lost  in  the  wonder  of  being 
together,  after  their  fifteen  years  of  separation, 
that  they  did  not  notice  when  Billy  tip-toed  from 
the  room;  and  they  were  still  so  lost  in  their  joy 
that  they  scarcely  noticed  when  he  returned. 
They  were  sitting  in  the  leather  couch  near  the 
window.  The  eyes  of  Tavy  were  moist  with 
happy  tears,  and  upon  Harrison  Stuart,  long  sick 
of  heart  hunger,  there  had  come  a  great  peace 
from  the  mere  presence  of  his  beautiful  daughter, 
whose  warm  little  hand  he  now  stroked  and  patted 
and  fondled. 

They  were  both  eager  in  their  welcome  of  Billy, 
when  they  became  aware  of  him.  Tavy  made 
room  for  him  on  the  couch,  and,  with  one  hand  in 
his  and  one  in  her  father's,  she  was  a  very,  very 
happy  little  Tavy  indeed. 

They  were  rather  quiet  for  a  trio  to  whom  had 
247 


248  THE  ENEMY 

come  so  much  that  was  new  and  wonderful,  when 
suddenly,  out  of  a  clear  sky,  as  it  were,  came  the 
question  of  why  Billy  and  Tavy  had  come  here. 

"  I'm  not  quite  sure,"  puzzled  Billy,  while  Tavy 
smiled  at  his  confusion.  "  I  think  we  meant  to 
run  off  or  something.  You  know,  Tavy  and  I 
have  not  seen  each  other  for  two  weeks,  and  we 
accidentally  met  in  the  park  this  morning.  Of 
course,  we  didn't  see  how  we  were  ever  going  to 
be  separated  again,  so  we  came  up  here  to  talk  it 
over." 

"  I  understand."  Tavy's  father  was  very  grave 
and  thoughtful.  "  I  feel  certain  that,  after  you 
had  talked  it  over,  you  would  have  decided  for 
Tavy  to  go  home  to  her  mother." 

They  seemed  to  be  doubtful  of  that.  Neither 
of  them  answered  for  a  while,  and  Billy  moved  a 
little  closer  to  Tavy. 

"  Well,  I  don't  know,"  was  the  frank  admission. 
"  I  don't  believe  we  intended  to  do  that." 

"  You  see,  Daddy  — "  She  stopped,  and 
laughed  in  sheer  delight.  It  was  so  strange  to  use 
that  word,  and  yet  so  good !  "  You  see,  Daddy, 
Billy  is  never  going  to  —  to  forget  himself  any 
more;  but  Mummy  wouldn't  believe  it  for  a  long, 
long  time;  but  if  Billy  and  I  were  just  to  be  mar- 
ried, then,  by  and  by  when  Billy  had  turned  out 


THE  ENEMY  249 

all  right,  Mummy  would  be  very  glad  that  we  — 
had  done  it." 

She  was  so  ingenious  about  it,  so  certain  that 
she  was  right,  so  charming  in  her  sureness  that 
any  one  could  see  this  simple  logic,  that  Harrison 
Stuart  knitted  his  brows  in  concern. 

"  So  you  would  have  been  married,"  he  pon- 
dered, and  thought  it  over  a  long,  long  time. 
"  No,  Tavy,  it  wouldn't  do.  I  know,  if  Billy 
doesn't,  just  what  danger  there  is.  Billy  thinks 
he  is  cured,  and  I  hope  that  he  is,  but  he  has  not 
yet  passed  through  his  fire  of  temptation.  He 
must  conquer  his  enemy  before  he  marries  my  little 
Tavy." 

"  But  I  could  help  him." 

"  Not  that !  Not  that !  "  There  was  the 
harshness  of  sudden  fear  in  his  voice.  "  Tavy." 
He  hesitated.  "  Has  your  mother  told  you  my 
history?  " 

She  sat  motionless,  and  the  color  slowly  ran  up 
into  her  cheeks.  She  felt  almost  guilty  in  the 
knowledge  which  she  had  of  her  father.  She  was 
ashamed,  not  alone  for  him,  but  ashamed  that  she 
knew.  The  long,  curving  lashes  came  down  over 
her  eyes,  and  the  hand  which  lay  in  Harrison 
Stuart's  clasped  his  own,  in  fondness. 

"  She  has,  then."     He  surmised  it  from  her 


250  THE  ENEMY 

downcast  eyes,  from  her  confusion,  from  her 
silence,  and,  for  a  moment,  he  bowed  his  head. 
This  was  a  humiliation  which  hurt  more  than  all 
his  other  hurts ! 

"  Only  just  now,  Daddy."  She  edged  closer 
to  him,  and  drew  Billy  with  her.  "  It  was  not  un- 
til the  night  Billy  —  went  away,"  and  this  time  it 
was  Billy's  turn  for  self-abasement.  Of  the  three, 
Tavy  alone,  clear-eyed,  clear-souled  Tavy,  had  no 
cause  for  self-reproach,  and  yet  she  was  as  ashamed 
as  they,  and  this  added  the  more  to  their  guilt. 

"  Then  you  know  that,  in  one  case  at  least,  mar- 
rying a  man  to  reform  him  was  a  failure."  He 
spoke  quickly,  as  he  grappled  with  the  problem 
which  confronted  them.  He  put  hurt  pride  away 
from  him.  "  Billy  believes  in  himself,  and  you  be- 
lieve in  him,  but  your  father  and  mother  are  going 
to  insist  that  Billy  must  prove  his  strength  before, 
not  after,  he  has  taken  your  happiness  in  his 
hands."  Both  young  people  were  silent  and 
sombre-eyed,  but  there  was  a  certain  squaring  of 
Billy's  mouth  which  indicated  some  strong  resolu- 
tion in  him.  "  I'm  going  to  propose  a  plan," 
Tavy's  father  went  on.  "  I  have  yet  some  time 
before  I  can  announce  myself  as  Harrison  Stuart. 
I  must  be  sure  that  there  can  be  no  further  stain 
attached  to  that  name  before  I  take  it  to  my  wife." 


THE  ENEMY  251 

"Why,  Daddy!  "  Tavy  turned  to  him  in  as- 
tonishment. "  You  talk  as  though  you  were  go- 
ing to  stay  here !  I  wouldn't  go  home  to  Mummy 
without  you !  Oh,  she'll  be  so  happy,  Daddy  I  " 
and,  reaching  up,  she  pressed  her  warm  face  against 
his  cold  one,  and  patted  his  other  cheek. 

"  Not  yet,  Tavy  dear.  Why,  only  to-day  I 
would  have  fallen,  had  not  God  sent  you  to  me 
just  in  time.  I  dare  not  go  to  Jean  so  long  as 
this  danger  threatens  me.  Every  day  I  fight  this 
battle,  and,  until  I  win,  your  mother  must  not 
know  that  I  am  alive.  I  must  have  your  promise 
for  that  You  see  why,  don't  you  ?  " 

A  pressure  of  the  hand  was  his  only  answer. 
Tavy's  eyes  were  swimming  with  tears.  Poor 
Mummy,  poor  Mummy!  And  poor  Daddy! 
And  poor  Billy !  And  poor  Tavy! 

"  I  shall  win,  however."  There  was  the  ring 
of  confidence  in  his  voice.  "  You  must  go  home, 
Tavy,  and  Billy  must  fight  out  his  battle,  side  by 
side  with  me.  Then  when  we  are  perfectly  sure 
of  ourselves,  we  will  come  to  you,  side  by  side. 
How  about  it,  Billy?" 

The  two  men  looked  at  each  other  for  a  mo- 
ment, and  then  they  shook  hands,  across  Tavy,  and 
she  was  a  very,  very  happy  little  girl,  for  one 
with  so  many  tears  in  her  eyes. 


252  THE  ENEMY 

"  It  will  be  the  first  real  secret  I  ever  had  from 
Mummy,"  she  wondered.  "  I  don't  know  how  I 
shall  ever  keep  itl  " 

"  You  will  have  more,"  and  now  there  was  ex- 
ultation in  his  tone.  "  I  have  you,  Tavy,  and  that 
is  a  joy  I  had  not  dared  to  hope  for  until  the  end 
of  my  trial.  You  must  arrange  for  clandestine 
meetings  with  Billy  and  me,  and  we'll  buy  a  beauti- 
ful house  for  Mummy,  and  spend  the  time  in  fit- 
ting it  up,  so  that  we  may  take  her  home  like  a 
royal  princess  when  the  happiest  day  of  my  life 


arrives." 


Tavy  clapped  her  hands  at  that,  and  laughed 
like  a  child.  It  was  such  a  glorious  trick  to  play 
on  Mummy,  such  a  delightful  secret  to  hug  to 
one's  breast! 

"  It's  dreadfully  late,"  and  she  looked  reproach- 
fully at  the  clock  on  the  mantel.  "  I  have  to  start 
home  in  a  hurry,  or  Mummy  will  be  worried.  I 
don't  suppose  we  could  spare  time  to  drive  out 
right  now  past  some  of  the  places  where  we  might 
want  to  buy  the  house." 

"  I  don't  suppose  we  could,"  her  father  laughed. 
"  If  Mummy  is  worried  about  you,  I  think  I  had 
better  give  you  up  immediately." 

He  did  not,  however.  He  kept  her  there  for 
many  fleeting  minutes,  and  it  was  a  very  difficult 


THE  ENEMY  253 

parting,  indeed.  Billy  wanted  to  take  her  to  the 
corner  near  the  enchanted  apartments,  but  she 
would  not  let  him.  Instead,  she  had  her  father 
and  Billy  both  escort  her  to  the  stage,  and,  as  far 
as  she  could  see  through  the  crowded  traffic,  she 
looked  back  out  of  the  window  and  watched  them 
standing  on  the  curb,  side  by  side,  the  old  man  and 
the  young,  at  the  threshold  of  their  mutual  battle. 

What  a  mixture  of  emotions  was  the  sparkling 
and  bubbling  and  worried  and  dubious  Tavy  who 
hesitated  at  the  door  of  the  enchanted  pink  and 
gray  parlor.  Her  eyes  were  dancing,  her  cheeks 
were  aglow,  the  imps  peeped  cautiously  from  her 
glossy  curls,  and  there  was  a  little  pucker  in  her 
brow.  She  had  to  keep  the  wonderful  secret  of 
a  new  found  daddy,  and  of  the  beautiful  cottage 
for  the  royal  princess,  and  she  had  also  to  reinstate 
Billy,  so  no  wonder  she  was  all  ajumble. 

"  Where  have  you  been,  Tavy?  You're  late," 
exclaimed  her  mother,  the  traces  of  her  anxiety 
still  upon  her. 

"  With  Billy."  The  frank  reply  promptly,  but 
in  a  doubtful  voice. 

There  was  a  startled  look  in  Jean  Stuart's  face, 
and  then  she  turned  and  walked  into  the  bay  win- 
dow, where  she  stood  and  looked  down  at  the 
river,  in  deep  trouble.  She  had  known  that  this 


254  THE  ENEMY 

moment  must  come,  and  she  had  her  answer 
ready,  but  it  was  a  difficult  one  to  speak.  The 
arms  of  her  daughter  stole  about  her. 

"  Mummy  dear."  The  voice  was  low  and 
pleading.  "  Billy  must  come  back.  I  know  that 
he  will  never  drink  too  much  again.  It  isn't  fair 
to  judge  him  by  your  experience.  It  isn't  fair  not 
to  give  him  a  second  chance.  Please,  Mummy;  I 
love  Billy  so." 

Jean  Stuart  took  her  daughter  in  her  arms,  laid 
her  hand  upon  the  glossy  curls  and  drew  the  head 
upon  her  shoulder,  as  if  by  that  she  could  surround 
this  child  of  hers  from  the  sorrow  which  had  been 
her  own.  Yes,  she  knew  love,  and  just  what  ap- 
palling self-sacrifice  it  could  mean,  and  it  was  be- 
cause Tavy  loved  Billy  so  that  her  mother  was 
strengthened  in  her  determination. 

"  It  is  against  my  wishes  for  Billy  to  come  here 
or  for  you  to  meet  him,"  she  said,  reflecting  cu- 
riously that  her  voice  was  harsh  and  dry.  A  sob 
aroused  her,  and  she  turned.  Tavy  had  found 
the  picture  of  Billy,  but,  as  she  caught  the  pitying 
gaze  of  her  mother,  she  clasped  the  picture  and 
went  into  her  own  room. 

It  was  a  long,  long  time  before  Jean  Stuart  fol- 
lowed. In  the  dainty  little  delf  and  white  room, 
she  found  Tavy  kneeling  by  the  bedside,  the  pic- 


THE  ENEMY  255 

ture  before  her,  and  the  head  of  black  curls  pil- 
lowed upon  her  arm.  The  shoulders  were  trem- 
bling with  silent  sobs. 

Had  she  been  harsh?  Had  Tommy  Tinkle 
been  right  when  he  said  that  her  judgment  was 
warped?  Jean  did  not  know.  She  only  saw  that 
this  child  whom  she  had  carried  in  her  arms,  blood 
of  her  blood  and  flesh  of  her  flesh,  was  in  deep 
sorrow,  and  suddenly,  with  the  tears  at  last  spring- 
ing into  her  own  dry  eyes,  and  with  a  tugging  at 
her  heart  strings  which  she  could  not  resist,  she 
bent  over  her  daughter  in  a  flood  of  tenderness. 

"  Tavy  dear,"  and  her  hand  again  sought  the 
curly  head;  "  Billy  may  have  his  second  chance." 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

WHEN  ONE  HAS  A  TAVY 

WAS  there  ever  such  a  place  as  Wood- 
brier!  To  reach  Woodbrier,  you  ride 
on  the  wings  of  love  along  fairy  streets 
and  elfin  roads  and  magic  forests,  over  hills  of 
ecstatic  joy  and  through  glades  of  endless  bliss; 
that  is,  you  do  it  if  you  are  a  Billy  and  have  a 
Tavy  by  your  side,  all  swathed  in  a  shapeless  dus- 
ter and  perked  with  a  charming  motor  bonnet,  and 
protected  by  a  gauzy  veil  which  half  conceals  and 
half  reveals  bright  eyes  and  softly  glowing  cheeks 
and  glossy  black  curls.  Even  the  presence  of  a 
partially  convinced  and  somewhat  reluctant 
Mummy  Stuart  will  not  cool  your  delirium,  as, 
with  such  a  Tavy  by  your  side,  you  turn  in  at  the 
paradise  which  is  Woodbrier.  You  go  down  some 
rude  steps,  which  twist  and  turn  amid  great  sway- 
ing trees,  and  you  come  upon  a  little  rustic  house, 
the  broad  porches  of  which  overhang  a  little  rock- 
bound  lake.  The  water  is  deep  and  clear  and  blue, 
and  the  steep  dark  hills  which  confine  it  are  up- 

256 


THE  ENEMY  257 

side  down  in  its  pellucid  depths,  so  that  the  tops 
of  the  trees  and  the  blue  of  the  sky  meet  in  the 
water,-  and  you  may  look  far,  far  down  into  that 
bewitched  mirror  and  read  a  happy  future  —  if 
you  have  a  Tavy  by  your  side. 

That  was  the  future  Billy  read,  from  their  rus- 
tic table  on  the  porch,  where  a  sort  of  glorified 
waiter  takes  your  order  and  goes  away  and  you 
forget  about  him  for  a  long,  long  time,  so  that 
he  is  not  bothersome,  and  you  can  pay  more  at- 
tention to  the  Tavy  by  your  side. 

Of  course  the  swathing  duster  was  thrown  off, 
and  the  gauzy  veil  lifted,  and  even  Mrs.  Stuart's 
wrap  was  laid  aside  by  some  necromancy.  Oh, 
yes,  Billy  had  done  it  himself,  with  a  smile  and  a 
bow  and  a  pleasant  word,  but  he  forgot  about  it  in  a 
moment  after,  forgot  about  it  in  the  wonder  of 
Tavy's  luminous  big  eyes,  blue  now,  like  a 
troubled  sky. 

This  was  Billy's  first  outing  with  Tavy  and 
Tavy's  mother,  his  first  meeting,  in  fact,  since  that 
wonderful  time,  three  days  before,  when  he  found 
Tavy  in  the  little  park  and  caught  her  in  his  arms ; 
and  Billy,  for  all  his  happiness,  was  grave  and 
thoughtful,  too,  for  he  realized  that  he  was  merely 
allowed  to  call,  not  really  desired;  that  is,  by  one 
of  the  ladies.  He  felt  keenly  that  he  must  be  on 


258  THE  ENEMY 

his  good  behavior,  so  he  automatically  remem- 
bered, now  and  then,  to  smile  at  Mummy  Stuart 
and  speak  a  pleasant  word;  but  this  was  difficult. 
He  was  very  fond  of  Mummy  Stuart;  but  he  had 
been  separated  from  Tavy  for  so  long;  and  love 
is  selfish,  as  it  must  always  be;  and  mothers  have 
lived  their  lives ;  and  the  world  is  for  the  young ! 

Was  there  ever  such  a  place  as  Woodbrier, 
where  the  wild  flowers  tangle  in  the  grass,  and  a 
choir  of  birds  sings,  unceasingly;  where  soft 
breezes  come  to  ruffle  the  surface  of  the  glossy 
little  lake,  and  whisper  wonderful  secrets  in  the 
swaying  branches  of  the  trees ;  and  where  all  the 
food  and  drink  is  nectar  and  ambrosia,  when  one 
is  a  Billy  and  has  a  Tavy  by  his  side. 

What  was  that  which  sparkled  and  glittered  and 
danced,  with  a  thousand  flashing  colors,  on  Tavy's 
hand?  The  ring!  It  was  placed  there,  in  the 
enchanted  pink  and  gray  parlor,  just  before  the 
start  for  Woodbrier,  but  with  the  distinct  under- 
standing that  it  was  the  symbol  of  Billy's  strength, 
and  that  when  Billy's  strength  should  vanish,  the 
ring  should  vanish,  never  to  return !  Such  an  easy 
condition  that,  by  which  to  place  a  ring  of  such 
glorious  significance  on  the  finger  of  such  a  mar- 
velous girl  as  Tavy;  and  now  here  was  the  ring, 
happy,  too,  it  seemed,  catching  the  blue  of  the  sky 


THE  ENEMY  259 

and  the  green  of  the  leaves  and  the  red  of  the 
charming  motor-bonnet  and  the  gold  of  the  sun, 
and  all  the  other  countless  tints  and  shades  from 
far  and  near,  and  darting  them  in  all  directions,  as 
if  it  were  a  fountain  of  sparks. 

Mrs.  Stuart,  watching  Billy  and  Tavy,  and  see- 
ing how  happy  they  were  in  each  other,  relented  a 
little  of  her  grimness.  He  was  a  fine-looking 
young  fellow,  manly,  wholesome,  honorable,  trust- 
worthy. Could  it  be  possible  that  her  own  bitter 
experience  had  warped  her  judgment  and  made 
her  harsh?  Perhaps.  It  was  not  unlikely.  Billy 
might  turn  out  to  be  entirely  safe,  and,  if  so,  little 
Tavy  would  be  happy  all  her  life,  and  that  was 
all  which  was  to  be  desired.  At  any  rate,  he  had 
his  second  chance,  and  he  should  not  be  cramped 
by  unsympathetic  reserve.  That  is  not  the  best 
help  which  an  anxious  and  eager  young  man  can 
have,  one  who  is  sturdily  bound  to  do  right,  one 
who,  clear  down  in  the  honest  heart  of  him,  wishes 
to  deserve  approbation.  So  Tavy's  mother,  hav- 
ing had  plenty  of  time  to  think  all  these  things, 
while  the  lovers  were  with  many  words  saying 
nothing  at  all  to  each  other,  at  last  seized  on  one 
of  those  instants  when  Billy  paused  to  look  at  her 
and  smile  politely.  She  leaned  forward,  and  there 
was  a  delicate  flush  upon  her  cheeks,  for  the  set- 


26o  THE  ENEMY 

tling  of  things  and  the  ride  had  done  her  good. 

"  I'll  have  to  confess  that  I  have  missed  these 
little  outings,  Billy." 

There  was  not  much  more  needed  to  make  young 
Lane's  happiness  complete  and  unalloyed.  That 
was  the  first  genuinely  friendly  word  Tavy's 
mother  had  said  to  him;  but  it  was  not  the  last. 
She  was  very  pleasant  indeed  during  that  wonder- 
ful dinner,  and  when  the  odd  lanterns  were  lit  and 
the  sun  had  faded  away,  and  the  song  of  the  birds 
had  died  in  sleepy  goodnight  chirps,  and  there  were 
stars  in  the  glassy  little  lake,  and  soft  music  from 
somewhere  around  the  mysterious  leaf-hidden  cor- 
ner, why,  Elysium  could  offer  no  advantage  over 
Woodbrier ! 

Then  there  was  the  ride  home,  back  through 
the  magic  forests,  and  the  elfin  roads,  and  the  fairy 
streets,  to  the  enchanted  apartment,  where  Mrs. 
Stuart  was  thoughtful  enough  to  allow  the  en- 
chanted couple  a  long,  blissful  hour  all  by  them- 
selves. Only  once  did  Mummy  Stuart  break  the 
pleasant  let-bygones-be-bygones  spirit  which  she 
had  assumed  for  the  young  man's  benefit,  and  that 
was  when,  on  bidding  him  goodnight,  she  held 
his  hand  for  a  moment  and  looked  earnestly  and 
wistfully  into  his  eyes,  and  said:  "Remember, 
Billy,  never  again ;  never !  " 


THE  ENEMY  261 

And  Billy,  with  his  whole  heart  and  his  whole 
soul  and  with  all  his  purpose  of  high  honor  in  his 
eyes,  repeated  after  her:  "  Never  again,  never  1  " 

When  Mrs.  Stuart  had  gone  to  her  own  room, 
she  wondered  at  the  tremendous  amount  of  laugh- 
ing and  whispering  in  the  pink  and  gray  parlor. 
Young  people  just  on  the  verge  of  blissful  un- 
known seas  were  given  to  whispering  perhaps,  but 
not  to  so  much  free  and  joyous  laughing;  but  not 
many  young  people  in  their  circumstances  had  such 
an  amazing  secret  to  hide  from  a  mother.  Their 
entire  hour  was  spent  in  talking  about  the  perfect 
house  which  was  to  be  bought  and  furnished,  for 
the  home-coming  of  the  royal  princess.  And  that 
was  nearly  the  whole  of  the  burden  of  the  love 
making. 

The  very  next  day  Billy  secured  Tavy  for  a 
drive,  all  by  himself,  and  the  first  place  they  went 
was  to  the  office  of  William  Lane,  where  they  se- 
cured, without  a  particle  of  coaxing,  the  company 
of  a  distinguished  looking  elderly  gentleman  with 
waving  hair  and  a  neatly  trimmed  silver  Vandyke, 
and  a  far-away  suggestion  of  imps  in  his  dark 
gray  eyes,  and  a  nugget  of  joy  in  his  heart  so  big 
and  so  bright  that  it  glowed  right  up  through  his 
countenance. 

A  ridiculous  thing  transpired,  when  they  were 


262  THE  ENEMY 

all  three  in  the  car.  Billy  had  a  list  of  houses; 
but  so  had  the  distinguished-looking  elderly  gentle- 
man; but  so  had  Tavy!  And  whose  list  did  they 
go  to  see  first?  How  foolish  it  would  be  to  an- 
swer the  question. 

That  was  a  glorious  afternoon,  too,  an  after- 
noon of  boundless  happiness !  Of  course,  not  one 
of  the  houses  was  quite  good  enough  for  the  royal 
princess.  They  never  are,  on  the  first  day,  but 
there  were  other  days  to  come,  days  of  just  such 
tremendous  enjoyment  as  this. 

Two  nights  later,  there  was  another  big  secret 
for  Tavy  to  keep.  Tavy  and  Mummy  Stuart  and 
Billy  went  to  the  theater,  and  she  knew  exactly 
where  to  look,  away  in  the  corner  under  the  bal- 
cony, for  the  distinguished-looking  gentleman  with 
a  pair  of  folding  opera  glasses,  who  stared  at  them 
rudely  all  through  the  show.  That  was  the  hard- 
est secret  of  all  to  keep,  for  Tavy  could  not  for- 
bear smiling  and  nodding  to  the  distinguished-look- 
ing elderly  gentleman,  whenever  Mummy  Stuart's 
back  was  turned,  and  once  she  waved  her  hand  at 
him,  and  half  a  dozen  times  she  was  nearly  caught, 
and  altogether  it  was  the  most  enjoyable,  exciting 
and  ecstatic  and  nervous  evening  she  had  ever 
passed!  Part  of  the  joy  of  it,  too,  was  that  Billy 
was  constantly  on  pins  and  needles  for  fear  that 


THE  ENEMY  263 

she  would  be  discovered,  and  once  or  twice  he  was 
almost  on  the  point  of  using  sheer  force  to  keep 
Mummy  Stuart  from  looking  steadfastly  in  that 
direction.  It  amused  Tavy  to  see  him  so  busy,  but 
he  was  used  to  being  busy  these  days.  He  was  so 
busy,  in  fact,  that  not  until  a  full  week  after  his 
reinstatement  at  the  enchanted  apartments  did  he 
carry  the  good  news  to  Geraldine. 

Before  going  out  to  the  Benning  house,  he  tele- 
phoned, and  when  he  arrived  he  found  Geraldine 
in  the  quaintly  screened  summer-house  at  the  end  of 
the  pergola,  dressed  in  something  light  and  fluffy, 
and  suggestive  somehow  of  a  garden  full  of  mar- 
guerites. 

"Well,  Sis,  I'm  happy  again!  "  he  loudly  told 
her,  as  he  shook  both  the  hands  she  held  out  to 
him.  "  Tavy  took  me  back !  " 

"  Yes,  so  Tommy  told  me."  She  was  sweetly 
sympathetic  with  his  happiness,  smiling  with  pleas- 
ure at  his  good  fortune.  "  Tommy  says  you  have 
to  behave,  though,"  and  she  laughed,  as  if  that 
were  a  splendid  joke  on  Billy. 

"  You  bet  I  do,  or  it's  all  off  with  me."  He  sat 
in  the  hammock  beside  her,  and  rumpled  his  hair, 
a  way  he  had  when  he  was  excessively  happy  or  ex- 
cessively worried.  "  Geraldine,  I'm  the  luckiest 
fellow  in  the  world!  I  have  such  splendid 


264  THE  ENEMY 

friends,  my  business  is  good,  and  Tavy  is  positively 
the  most  beautiful,  the  most  charming,  the 
most " 

"  I  know  all  about  it,"  interrupted  Geraldine, 
with  a  laugh  which  the  caller  did  not  stop  to  ana- 
lyze. If  he  had,  he  would  have  found  the  guile 
in  it.  "  Tommy  says  you  are  only  taken  back  on 
approval." 

"  That's  putting  it."  He  was  quite  cheerful 
about  it.  "  But  that's  the  same  as  unconditional, 
for  there's  no  danger  of  me  doing  anything  to 
make  them  send  me  away.  Why,  Geraldine,  for  a 
girl  like  Tavy,  there's  no  chance  that  I  could  make 
a  break !  She  is  the  cleverest,  the  sweetest,  the  — • 
Say;  hasn't  she  the  most  wonderful  eyesl " 

Geraldine  scarcely  heard  him.  She  had  been 
pondering  deeply,  but  when  he  paused  she  came  out 
of  her  abstraction. 

"  Yes,  hasn't  she?  You're  not  drinking  at  all, 
are  you,  Billy?  " 

"  Not  whisky,"  he  replied,  with  a  shake  of  his 
head.  "  I'm  afraid  of  it.  If  I  were  to  get  a  taste 
of  it,  I'd  drink  all  there  is.  Why,  Geraldine,  I've 
even  wanted  it!  I've  had  to  fight  it;  and  if  I 
ever  get  drunk  again,  I  get  back  the  ring  for 
keeps." 


THE  ENEMY  265 

Again  Geraldine  fell  into  a  brown  study.  Pres- 
ently she  looked  up  brightly. 

"  By  the  way,  Billy,  I  nearly  forgot.  I  was  go- 
ing to  give  a  party  for  Tavy  and  you,  when  you 
interrupted  the  program.  Suppose  we  make  it'the 
seventeenth?  " 


CHAPTER  XXV 

THE   GAYEST   NIGHT   OF   TAVY;S   LIFE 

HOW  can  any  one  in  the  world  be  so  flut- 
teringly  happy  as  a  Tavy  Stuart,  and  con- 
tain it  all?  Why,  this  is  her  first  real 
party;  and  such  a  party  it  isl  The  big  Benning 
house  blazes  from  every  window  and,  wherever 
one  goes  there  is  the  buzz  of  gay  conversation, 
the  sounds  of  gay  laughter,  the  strains  of  gay 
music.  Tavy  wants  to  say  that  it  is  like  a  fairy- 
land, but  that  word  scarcely  seems  adequate,  for 
she  has  seen  so  many  fairylands  of  late,  and  this 
is  so  much  bigger,  and  grander,  and  finer,  than 
everything  she  had  ever  dreamed ! 

Everybody  is  so  nice  to  Tavy,  too!  There  is 
always  a  dozen  or  more  of  the  boys  and  girls 
around  her,  and  their  admiration  is  frank  and  sin- 
cere. Dimpled  little  Dolly  Parsons  has  fallen 
dead  in  love  with  her  fresh  young  beauty,  with  her 
delicately  tinted  complexion,  and  her  luminous  big 
dark  eyes,  and  her  black  curls,  all  enchanted  by 
the  simple  little  white  chiffon  gown,  with  its  sleeves 

266 


THE  ENEMY  267 

so  absurdly  short  that  they  are  scarcely  any  sleeves 
at  all,  just  like  puffs,  revealing  her  beautifully  ta- 
pering arms,  and  her  smooth  white  shoulders,  and 
her  graceful  neck.  So  dimpled  little  Dolly,  who  is 
fair  and  fairy-like,  clings  to  Tavy  from  the  min- 
ute they  are  introduced,  and  the  two  smallest 
young  ladies  at  the  party  sweep  everything  before 
them,  and  are  the  center  of  a  jolly  group  wherever! 
they  move.  Geraldine  had  planned  a  merry  little 
trick.  She  had  intended  to  post  all  her  friends  to 
surround  Tavy  throughout  the  evening  so  that  the 
newly-engaged  couple  should  not  have  a  chance 
for  a  word  with  each  other,  but  Tavy  had  arrived, 
with  Billy,  before  she  had  time  to  carry  out  that 
idea,  and  now  it  is  quite  unnecessary;  for  Tavy 
had  become  instantly  popular,  and  Geraldine 
should  be  highly  pleased.  In  fact,  she  says  that 
she  is,  as  she  passes  the  door  of  the  dancing- 
room  on  the  arm  of  Billy. 

"  I'm  so  proud  to  introduce  Tavy  to  our  friends. 
It  hasn't  taken  her  long  to  win  them." 

If  there  is  in  this  a  covert  hint  that  Tavy  has 
been  forward,  or  presumptuous,  in  charming  all 
these  friends  of  theirs  so  quickly,  Billy  is  as  uncon- 
scious of  it  as  he  is  of  Geraldine's  stunning 
Egyptian  costume,  old  blue  and  gold,  with  a  glitter- 
ing dark  tiara  in  her  burnished  copper  hair.  It 


268  THE  ENEMY 

is  the  handsomest  and  most  becoming  gown  at  the 
party,  and  yet  Tavy's  simple  little  frock  of  pearl 
white  chiffon  seems  to  be  startingly  effective. 
How  fortunate  for  Tavy. 

"  Isn't  she  stunning!  "  says  William  Lane,  not 
the  least  bit  jealous  that  Tavy  is  constantly  sur- 
rounded so  that  he  cannot  get  near  her;  and  clear 
across  the  room,  as  her  big  eyes  look  toward  him, 
he  sends  her  a  wave  which  is  so  redolent  of  pride 
that  the  Egyptian  young  lady  hurries  him  on  past 
the  door.  She  doesn't  have  so  many  opportunities 
to  enjoy  Billy  as  she  used. 

Here  comes  Tommy  Tinkle,  his  familiar  whim- 
sical grin  much  in  evidence,  and  he  edges  into 
Tavy's  chattering  bevy,  and  surveys  her  triumph 
in  huge  delight. 

"  My  dance,  Ringlets."  He  has  a  nick-name 
for  everybody,  has  Tommy.  "  It's  the  Mou- 
kowa,"  and  he  and  Tavy  have  their  own  sly  laugh 
over  this  announcement;  for  Tommy  and  Billy 
have  been  up  to  the  enchanted  apartments  every 
night  for  the  past  two  weeks,  teaching  Tavy  all  the 
latest  dances,  and  the  Moukowa  has  been  the  most 
difficult  to  learn,  because  it  is  the  ugliest  and  least 
graceful. 

"  Are  you  having  a  good  time?  "  asks  Tommy, 
as  he  leads  her  out  on  the  floor. 


THE  ENEMY  269 

"  Blissful !  "  she  happily  confesses,  and  a  little 
fluttering  sigh  attests  how  profoundly  she  means 
that  word. 

"  It  is  well,"  approves  Tommy.  "  May  you 
never  be  less  happy  than  to-night  is  the  wish  of 
your  true  friend,  T.  Tinkle.  To  be  continued  in 
our  next.  Now  watch  that  tricky  skip  step  at  the 
turn,  for  here  we  start  to  Moukow." 

"  I  suppose  you're  not  even  touching  pink 
lemonade,  Billy."  It  is  Geraldine,  in  the  supper- 
room,  and  she  pauses  at  the  buffet  where  stands  a 
great  bowl  of  purple  punch. 

"  If  you  mean  this  stuff,  I'm  not  fond  enough 
of  it  to  drink  enough  to  hurt  me,"  laughs  Billy. 
"What's  in  it?" 

"  Goodness  only  knows,"  smiles  Geraldine. 
"  Father  made  it  himself,  and  it's  probably  weird." 
She  hands  him  two  of  the  cut  glass  cups,  and  he 
ladles  the  punch  into  them,  hands  Geraldine  her 
glass,  and  tastes  from  his  own. 

"  Practically  a  beverage,  not  a  drink."  He 
tastes  it  again.  "  Rather  refreshing,  though." 
He  empties  his  glass  and  sets  it  down,  and,  for  just 
an  instant,  there  is  a  flash  in  Geraldine's  eye.  The 
drink  is  quite  harmless,  but  it  leaves  a  pleasant 
little  tang  on  the  tongue,  which  promotes  thirst 
for  more.  And  this  is  what  Three-B  Benning 


270  THE  ENEMY 

considers  an  ideal  requisite  in  a  punch  for  young 
folks'  parties,  since  gallons  of  it  would  not  make 
a  headache. 

What  a  busy  Tavy!  She  is  hurried  from  one 
place  to  another,  and  from  one  thought  to  another, 
and  from  one  person  to  another,  until  she  is  all 
one  white-chiffoned  little  bundle  of  happy  bewilder- 
ment. Sam  Langster  parades  her  out  through  the 
gorgeous  conservatory,  and  explains  Benning's  rare 
collection.  Sam  is  a  fanatic  on  plants,  and  will 
talk  for  hours  on  that  subject  to  any  one  who  will 
listen.  Dolly  Parsons  and  Bert  Hasselton  rescue 
her  from  Sam's  botanical  ecstasies,  and  they  all 
wander  into  the  library,  where  Tommy  Tinkle  is 
giving  a  profound  imitation  of  Socrates,  and  issu- 
ing a  series  of  such  distorted  epigrams  of  wisdom 
as  to  "  excite  laughter  in  all  beholders,"  as  he  him- 
self gravely  claims.  He  laughs  at  his  own  jokes, 
does  Tommy,  in  this  imitation,  and  elaborately 
points  out  their  wit,  and  extracts  more  fun  out  of 
making  fun  of  himself  than  he  does  out  of  making 
fun  of  anybody  else,  which,  though  not  so  digni- 
fied, is  more  kindly. 

Billy's  dance  again,  his  second  of  the  evening 
and  he  is  to  have  one  more,  the  last  one.  This 
is  a  happy  moment!  He  is  there  at  the  first  in- 
stant in  which  he  can  claim  her;  big,  handsome 


THE  ENEMY  271 

Billy,  by  all  odds  the  handsomest,  and  best,  and 
noblest  young  man  at  the  party.  Tavy  glows 
with  pride  as  they  march  into  the  ball-room,  and 
there  is  no  expressing  the  pride  which  swells  the 
bosom  of  Billy.  Nothing  like  Tavy  was  ever 
created,  and,  as  he  looks  down  at  her  daintily 
flushed  cheeks  and  her  sparkling  eyes,  and  at  what 
those  eyes  tell  him,  he  wonders  again  how  he  ever 
was  so  fortunate  as  to  find,  and  woo,  and  win  this 
marvelous  creature!  His  arm  slips  around  her 
waist,  and  holding  her  hand,  he  looks  down  at 
her  fondly  as  the  music  strikes  up.  Why,  it  is  an 
old-fashioned  waltz,  introduced  into  this  evening's 
program  as  a  supreme  novelty.  Tavy  knows  that 
dance  perfectly.  Her  mother  taught  it  to  her. 
Now  Billy's  strong  arm  presses  her  to  him,  and 
they  are  floating  in  a  maze  of  dreamy  rapture. 
How  lithe  and  flexible  are  the  muscles  of  the  arm 
which  touches  and  holds  her.  How  delicate  is 
that  pulse  in  the  velvet-palm  where  it  rests  lightly 
on  his  shoulder.  Every  contact  is  a  caress,  every 
movement  is  a  mutual  exaltation;  it  is  as  if  they 
two  are  one,  and  wafted,  to  the  strains  of  ethereal 
music,  upon  zephyrs  of  celestial  bliss !  The  long 
lashes  of  Tavy  are  drooped  over  her  eyes,  and,  for 
a  moment,  she  is  half  swooning  with  the  happiness 
and  tremulous  joy  of  this  night  of  all  nights. 


272  THE  ENEMY 

Billy's  warm  breath  is  on  her  hair,  his  low  voice 
is  in  her  ear.  With  an  inspired  tongue  he  is  giv- 
ing her  a  list  of  all  her  own  remarkable  and  dis- 
tinctive charms  and  perfections.  He  had  no  idea 
that  he  was  so  poetic,  but  how  could  a  fellow  help 
being  poetic  with  such  an  inspiring  girl  as  Tavy! 
Why,  life  is  to  be  one  endless  waltz,  like  this, 
with  no  discord  in  the  music,  and  no  dimming  of 
the  lights,  and  no  fatigue !  Clasped  in  this  puls- 
ing embrace,  they  are  to  be  buoyed  on  and  on 
through  eternities  of  such  felicity,  eyes  to  eyes,  and 
heart  to  heart,  and  soul  to  soul ! 

Oh !  The  music  has  stopped,  the  waltz  is  done, 
and  now  they  are  going  into  the  supper-room,  skip- 
ping across  the  floor,  in  an  exhilaration  of  spirit 
which  is  such  a  delicious  intoxication  that  it  is  a 
pity  it  cannot  have  a  monopoly  of  stimulants. 

There  are  other  laughing  couples  in  the  supper- 
room,  and,  in  a  moment  more,  Tavy  is  in  the 
center  of  a  crowd  again.  They  all  know  each 
other,  these  friends  of  Billy's  and  Tommy's  and 
Geraldine's,  but  Tavy  is  a  stranger,  and  exception- 
ally beautiful,  and  clever  in  a  different  little  way, 
and  the  girl  who  is  going  to  marry  Billy;  so  they 
are  all  very  nice  to  her.  There  is  no  formal  sup- 
per at  the  party,  for  the  dance  is  too  important. 
There  are  just  tables  spread  with  everything  in 


THE  ENEMY  273 

the  world,  and  you  walk  in  and  help  yourself,  and 
a  cast-iron  butler,  aided  by  a  porcelain  second  but- 
ler, pours  wine  and  ladles  punch  and  serves  ices 
and  replenishes  things  in  general,  and  it  is  very 
wonderful  to  wide-eyed  Tavy,  who  neither  tries 
to  act  as  if  she  were  used  to  all  these  magnificent 
things  nor  betrays  any  undue  unfamiliarity;  for 
Tavy  has  one  gift  from  her  mother  which  is  far 
more  precious  than  any  jewel,  and  cannot  be 
bought  with  gold,  and  is  an  open  sesame  in  any 
company:  breeding.  Geraldine  Benning  takes 
particular  note  of  that  quality,  and  again  there  is 
the  little  flash  of  a  glitter  in  her  eye. 

The  fun  is  never  to  end  it  seems.  Here  comes 
a  dapper  young  man,  led  by  Dolly  Parsons,  and 
introduced  as  Tavy's  next  dancing  partner.  He 
dances  superbly,  though  not  with  that  fine  strong 
ease  of  Billy.  Nobody  can  dance  like  Billy.  No- 
body can  do  anything  like  Billy;  but,  indeed,  how 
could  it  be  expected  of  them  I 

"  Get  me  some  punch,  Billy.  I'm  dreadfully 
thirsty  to-night !  "  Geraldine.  It  is  their  dance, 
but  she  has  preferred  to  sit  it  out.  She  is  nibbling 
at  a  peppermint  wafer,  and  she  has  given  him  one. 
He  has  it  crunched  in  his  mouth  now. 

"  All  right,  Sis,"  and  he  starts  away. 

"  I  think  I  saw  a  pitcher  of  it  on  the  tabourette 


274  THE  ENEMY 

behind  the  palms."     Geraldine  drawls  this  lazily. 

They  are  in  the  alcove  leading  off  from  the  con- 
servatory, a  cozy  little,  dimly-lighted  corner,  with 
a  thick  rug  on  the  floor,  and  easy  tete-a-tete  chairs. 
Billy  brings  in  the  tray  with  the  tall  pitcher  and 
some  glasses,  and  pours  for  her.  He  pours  for 
himself. 

"  This  beverage  is  almost  like  a  drink,"  he  ob- 
serves. "  I'll  have  to  tell  Three-B  to  serve  a  pep- 
permint wafer  with  each  glass,"  and  Geraldine 
watches  him  curiously  as  he  drinks  it. 

"  Tavy  is  a  pretty  dancer.  As  soon  as  she  is 
more  familiar  with  the  new  steps,  we'll  take  her 
up  to  one  of  Mrs.  Wilton's  affairs." 

Billy  does  not  notice  the  slight  in  that  remark, 
but  he  does  notice  that  Tavy  has  been  mentioned, 
and  that  is  enough  for  him,  quite  sufficient  to  chain 
his  attention  for  any  length  of  time;  so  they  chat 
comfortably  away,  and  Billy  pours  more  of  the 
punch  out  of  the  tall  pitcher  from  behind  the  palms, 
and  drinks  it.  With  the  third  glass  he  smacks  his 
lips,  and  considers. 

"  By  George,  I  believe  there's  the  flavor  of 
whisky  in  this  stuff !  I  haven't  tasted  it  for  a 
month,  but  I  could  tell  a  drop  of  it  in  the  ocean, 
I  think.  It  leaves  a  peculiar  taste  on  the  tongue." 


THE  ENEMY  275 

Geraldine  veils  her  eyes,  lest  that  glitter  be 
seen. 

'  There  couldn't  be  much  of  it,"  she  smiles,  as 
nonchalantly  as  if  it  were  of  no  consequence. 
"  Father's  dance  punch  is  too  harmless  to  be  in- 
teresting." 

>l  Whisky  in  it  just  the  same."  Billy  laughs, 
and  drains  his  glass,  and  accepts  the  peppermint 
wafer  which  Geraldine  hands  him.  The  pepper- 
mint cannot  altogether  disguise  the  flavor  which  is 
in  this  pitcher  of  very  special  punch,  but  it  can  dis- 
guise the  quantity!  And  the  taste  is  on  his 
tongue ! 

The  library  is  the  favorite  lounging-place  for 
those  who  do  not  dance  every  number.  B.  B. 
Benning  holds  sway  in  here,  during  the  latter  half 
of  the  evening,  and  he  is  very  much  taken  with 
Billy's  Tavy.  She  sits  out  a  dance  in  the  library 
with  a  tall-foreheaded  young  man  who  has  over- 
done a  sprained  ankle,  and  quite  a  little  crowd 
gathers.  Three-B  Benning  makes  room  for  Tavy 
on  the  bench  beside  him.  He  loves  youth  and 
laughter  better  than  he  loves  old  wine;  and  Tavy 
represents  all  three,  considering  the  wine  to  be  the 
wine  of  life.  They  are  discussing  a  weighty  sub- 
ject; boxing. 


276  THE  ENEMY 

"  They  never  come  back,"  declares  pompous 
old  Joseph  Gandish,  whose  chest  protrudes  so  far 
that  he  has  to  stoop  to  look  down.  "  It's  true  of 
all  the  champions,  and  in  all  the  sports." 

Tavy  glances  at  the  high-panelled  wainscoting, 
and  the  big,  solemn  pictures,  and  the  beamed  ceil- 
ing, and  the  rich  conglomeration  of  rare  and  ex- 
pensive bronzes  and  other  quaint  things,  all  blended 
and  subdued  in  the  light  from  the  great,  low,  red 
lamp  shade,  and  she  speculates  on  sometime  hav- 
ing a  chance  to  examine  all  these  interesting  things 
in  detail.  She  has  an  inherited  appreciation  for 
beautiful  pieces  of  handwork. 

"  Nobody  ever  comes  back,"  says  Three-B  Ben- 
ning,  dropping  his  cigarette  in  an  ash  receiver. 
He  has  noted  that  the  smoke  follows  Tavy. 

"  You  said  those  very  words  one  night  at  an 
uptown  supper  dance,"  Mrs.  Benning  reminds  him. 
Somehow,  she  always  gravitates,  by  a  sort  of  un- 
conscious instinct,  into  the  same  quarter  of  the 
house  with  Three-B.  "  We  were  talking  about 
some  funny  drunkard  whom  Billy  Lane  brought 
from  the  Bowery  to  his  apartments." 

"  Oh,  yes !  "  Mrs.  Mortissant,  who  is  even 
gayer  now  than  when  she  was  Miriam  Hasselton. 
"  Do  you  remember  the  atrocious  caricature 
Tommy  Tinkle  drew  of  him;  a  blear-eyed,  awful 


THE  ENEMY  277 

creature,  peering  through  a  tangle  of  matted  hair 
and  beard?  His  name  was  Bow- Wow." 

Tommy  Tinkle  comes  loafing  in,  on  the  name, 
and,  startled,  he  catches  the  dawning  look  of  hor- 
ror in  Tavy's  face. 

''Whatever  became  of  him,  Tommy?"  The 
heavy  voice  of  Joseph  Gandish.  "  Nothing  good, 
I'll  be  bound." 

"  Bow-Wow?  Oh,  yes."  Tommy  laughs,  as 
one  discovering  a  joke  after  an  effort  at  memory. 
'  You  were  quite  right,  Gandish.  He  set  fire  to 
his  bed,  and  Burke  put  him  out  and  he's  never  been 
seen,  nor  heard  from,  since."  He  does  not  look 
at  Tavy  as  he  speaks,  but  he  can  hear  an  almost 
inaudible  drawing  in  of  the  breath. 

Tavy  rises  presently,  very  quietly  and  inconspicu- 
ously. 

"  I  haven't  been  on  the  veranda,  Tommy.  It 
must  be  pretty  out  there,"  and,  as  they  pass  into  the 
fresh  night  air,  he  feels  her  hand  tremble  on  his 
arm.  She  says  nothing,  but  there  is  a  trace  of 
pallor  on  her  cheeks,  and  her  bosom  flutters  now 
and  then;  and  when  the  music  starts  and  they  come 
back  into  the  ballroom,  he  is  sure  that  the  look 
in  her  eyes,  as  she  leaves  him  for  her  dancing  part- 
ner, is  a  look  of  gratitude. 

Bow- Wow!     What  a  dreadful  name  for  any 


278  THE  ENEMY 

human  being  to  have  borne,  even  a  poor  drunkard 
from  the  Bowery,  who  set  fire  to  his  bed,  and  was 
turned  out,  and  was  never  heard  of  any  more! 
Tavy  wanted  Billy.  She  wanted  him  all  through 
that  dance,  and  the  next  and  the  next,  for  some- 
how there  had  come  just  the  faintest,  far-off  hint 
of  sadness  into  this  happiest  night  of  her  life. 
Bow- Wow!  She  could  not  get  the  name  out  of 
her  mind ! 

She  missed  Billy  so  much  during  these  last  few 
dances.  He  was  not  even  on  the  floor  for  her  to 
look  at;  and,  when  she  was  worried,  he  was  so 
comforting,  with  his  strong,  clean-cut  features, 
and  his  clear  eyes  so  full  of  understanding. 
It  was  a  silly  custom  to  make  people  dance 
with  everybody,  when  they  would  so  much 
rather  dance  with  just  one.  Especially  after  a  per- 
son became  tired,  it  was  so  good  to  have  a  firm 
arm  for  support,  and  one  the  embrace  of  which 
could  be  courted  rather  than  ignored.  However, 
at  last  the  program  was  nearly  done,  and  the  very 
next  dance  would  be  Billy's !  She  smiled,  and  her 
eyes  brightened  as  she  thought  of  that. 

It  was  Geraldine  who  joined  her  just  before 
the  last  dance,  and,  quite  naturally,  Tavy  asked  her 
if  she  had  seen  Billy. 

"  Not  for  ages,"  replied  the  cheerful  voice  of 


THE  ENEMY  279 

Geraldine.  "  I'm  sending  out  a  call  for  the  last 
dance,  though,  and  we'll  have  everybody  from 
their  hidden  corners,"  and,  laughing,  she  went 
away.  She  was  back  in  a  minute  or  two,  however, 
and  immediately  searched  for  her  dear  friend 
Tavy. 

They  were  together  in  the  ballroom,  amid  quite 
a  little  group  of  Tavy's  new  friends  and  admirers, 
when  the  hide-aways  began  to  stroll  in. 

She  had  no  need  to  turn  and  watch  Billy.  She 
could  tell  all  about  him  from  the  look  on  Tavy's 
facel  Those  delicately  tinted  oval  cheeks  had 
turned  as  white  as  the  poor  little  chiffon  frock,  the 
same  one  she  had  worn  the  night  Billy  was  late 
for  the  theater  engagement.  Tavy's  eyes  widened 
with  terror,  and  she  stood  as  rigid  as  if  she  had 
been  frozen  into  a  beautiful  snow  statue  1  The 
glitter  in  Geraldine's  eyes  was  thoroughly  unveiled 
now,  as,  noting  the  death-like  silence  and  the 
shocked  faces,  she  turned  to  survey  Billy.  His 
hair  was  rumpled  down  over  his  forehead,  on  his 
lips  was  a  foolish  grin,  while  out  of  his  swaying 
body  and  his  puffed  face  his  familiar  demon  leered 
its  red  leer  and  snarled  its  red  snarl.  Billy  was 
drunk ! 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

GERALDINE    LISTENS 

FOR  a  moment  Tavy  stood,  weak,  faint,  sick; 
yet,  without  a  tremor,  she  walked  straight 
through  that  circle  of  staring  eyes,  and  took 
the  arm  of  the  man  she  had  promised  to  marry. 

"  We're  going  home,  Billy,"  she  said,  and, 
though  her  voice  was  calm  and  low,  it  was  strangely 
without  flexibility. 

He  looked  down  at  her  with  his  foolish  smile, 
and  patted  the  icy  hand  which  lay  on  his  arm. 

"  All  right,  Tavy."  His  tongue  was  thick,  but 
he  was  entirely  willing.  He  was  perfectly  agree- 
able to  anything  she  wanted;  dear  little  Tavy! 
Most  wonderful  girl  in  the  world !  "  Good-night 
all,"  he  mouthed  over  his  shoulder,  and  he 
stumbled  slightly  as  he  turned,  stumbled  and 
swayed;  and  into  her  body  he  carried  the 
same  sway,  so  it  was  as  if  she,  too,  were  drunk; 
for  no  man  and  no  woman  who  have  made  them- 
selves one,  can  escape  each  their  share  of  the  sins 
of  the  other.  So  it  was  that  Tavy  finished  the 

280 


THE  ENEMY  281 

gayest  night  of  her  life,  and  quitted  the  ballroom 
floor  of  her  first  real  party,  leaving  behind  her  half 
a  hundred  pitying  witnesses  of  her  shame  1 

Three-B  Benning,  Tommy  Tinkle  and  Geral- 
dine  followed  swiftly  to  the  door. 

"  We  can't  let  her  go  home  with  him,"  said 
Tommy  to  Benning  as  they  converged. 

"  Certainly  not!  "  Benning  was  furious. 
"  We'll  see  the  girl  home  in  my  car." 

Tommy  nodded  his  head  with  a  sharp  jerk. 

"  Good.     I'll  take  Billy  to  the  club." 

"  Take  him  to  the  devil !  Any  place  so  the 
beast  gets  out  of  my  house!  And  he  can't  come 
back;  ever!  Tell  him  that  when  he  wakes  up." 

Geraldine  had  passed  them,  and  overtook  Tavy 
and  Billy  just  ahead  in  the  hall. 

"  I  can't  tell  you  how  sorry  I  am,"  she  sympa- 
thized, slipping  her  arm  through  the  girl's.  '  You 
mustn't  attempt  to  go  with  Billy.  We'll  keep  him 
for  the  night,  and  we'll  take  you  home." 

Tavy  turned  to  her  with  cold  eyes. 

"  I'm  going  with  Billy,"  was  all  she  said,  and 
the  tone  was  so  quiet  in  its  despair  that  it  must  have 
melted  a  heart  of  ice;  but  there  is  no  ice  in  the 
heart  of  a  jealous  woman.  There  is  only  fire, 
that  burns  and  destroys. 


282  THE  ENEMY 

Billy  became  conscious  that  a  third  party  was 
with  them.  Oh !  Geraldine. 

"  Great  punch,  Sis,"  he  told  her,  with  a  clumsy 
laugh.  "  Whisky  in  it,  though.  Tell  a  drop  of  it 
in  the  ocean.  Taste  on  the  tongue,  you  know. 
Say,  Benning!  "  He  looked  back.  He  felt  sure 
he  had  heard  Benning's  voice,  but  Three-B  was 
gone  for  his  hat  and  coat.  Only  Tommy  was 
there,  close  behind  them;  good  old  Tommy. 
"  Hello,  Tommy.  Going  to  quit  you  early. 
Little  girl's  tired,"  and  again  he  patted  the  icy 
hand  which  clung  to  him. 

"  That's  right,  Billy,"  soothed  Tommy,  and, 
setting  Geraldine  aside  with  a  brusqueness  which 
made  her  stare,  he  led  Billy  and  Tavy  to  the  little 
ante-room  just  off  the  vestibule.  "  Wait  just  a 
minute,  please.  I'm  going  home  with  you." 

"  Thank  you,  Tommy."  Her  mind  was  in  a 
whirl.  She  was  glad  to  be  alone  for  a  few  mo- 
ments. She  had  many  things  to  decide.  Billy 
followed  her  into  the  ante-room.  He  turned,  as  if 
to  take  her  in  his  arms,  but  she  shuddered  and 
walked  away  to  the  window,  and  he,  feeling  some- 
thing uncomprisingly  stiff  about  her,  sat  down. 
He  was  tired  anyhow. 

Tommy,  still  in  the  doorway,  noted  the  drowsy 


THE  ENEMY  283 

eyes  of  his  friend  with  satisfaction,  then  he  re- 
turned to  Geraldine. 

"  Come  with  me.  I  want  to  talk  with  you." 
It  was  an  order,  the  first  one  Tommy  Tinkle  had 
ever  given  to  a  woman. 

Geraldine  stared  at  him  in  astonishment,  and 
then  her  eyes  flashed  with  resentment.  She  low- 
ered them  as  she  met  his  steady  gaze.  There  was 
contempt  in  it.  A  group  of  guests  came  down 
the  hall  with  Mrs.  Benning,  but  without  gayety. 
The  party  was  ending  most  uncomfortably.  Ger- 
aldine walked  with  Tommy  through  the  conserva- 
tory and  into  the  cozy  alcove.  He  wheeled 
abruptly  to  her. 

"Now  what  have  you  done?" 

She  glared  at  him  defiantly,  but  the  color  was 
receding  from  her  cheeks. 

"  I  don't  understand  you." 

"  Yes,  you  do !  "  His  tone  was  fiercely  tense. 
"  You  spiked  Billy's  punch !  There  was  no  whisky 
in  that  I  drank.  Why  did  you  do  it?  " 

"  This  is  an  outrage !  "  Geraldine's  eyes  now 
were  blazing  straight  into  his.  She  held  them 
there  without  deviation,  but  her  cheeks  were  pale. 
"  I  will  not  listen  to  such  insult  I  " 

"You  will!"     He  stepped  to  the  tall  pitcher 


284  THE  ENEMY 

which  still  stood  on  the  tabourette,  and  picked  up 
one  of  the  used  glasses  and  smelled  it.  "  There's 
whisky  in  this,  and  you  were  in  here  with  Billy. 
I  saw  you.  I've  told  you  more  than  once,  since 
Billy  started  to  take  hold  of  himself,  that  if  he 
got  a  taste  of  whisky  he  was  gone.  Why  did 
you  do  this?  " 

"  Do  you  realize  what  you're  saying  to  me ! 
Do  you  know  that " 

"  Don't  lie  !  "  The  tone  of  Tommy  rose  in  such 
hot  anger  that  it  startled  her  into  silence.  "  If 
you  utter  another  word  of  denial,  I'll  send  for 
your  father  and  show  him  this  punch!  "  and  he 
reached  for  the  push  button. 

"  Tommy!  "  At  last,  in  that  frantically  fright- 
ened cry,  he  had  a  confession,  and  she  realized  it 
as  well  as  he.  She  sank  into  a  chair  and  covered 
her  face  with  her  hands. 

"  I'll  tell  you  why  you  did  it !  You  knew  that 
if  Billy  ever  got  drunk  again  it  would  break  his  en- 
gagement with  Miss  Stuart;  permanently.  It's 
the  rottenest  thing  I  ever  heard  of!  A  Bowery 
thief  has  no  worse  morals.  Sit  still,  I  tell  you: 
you're  going  to  listen;  not  talk!  "  This  was 
Tommy  Tinkle!  good  old  Tommy,  who  had 
fetched  and  carried,  and  sat  up  and  barked,  and 
jumped  through  hoops,  for  years.  "  Why  did 


THE  ENEMY  285 

you  do  this?  Because  you  loved  Billy?  No!  I 
thought  maybe  you  did  at  first ;  so  I  wiped  myself 
out.  If  I  could  make  you  and  Billy  happy  I'd 
have  some  pay  for  what  I  had  lost,  for  I  loved  you 
myself.  I  have  loved  you  all  my  life ;  but  it  didn't 
make  any  difference  to  you ;  nothing  did.  You  only 
made  up  your  mind  to  have  Billy  because  you  didn't 
want  to  lose  one  of  the  dangles  on  your  bracelet. 
You  hated  this  girl  because  Billy  raved  about  her 
beauty,  and  forgot  to  mention  yours.  You  hated 
her  because  Billy  loved  her,  and  you  wanted  Billy 
to  love  you,  as  you  wanted  me  to  love  you.  The 
thought  that  love  should  have  any  return  never 
entered  into  your  cramped  and  starved  little  heart. 
So,  just  to  please  your  contemptible  vanity,  you 
were  perfectly  willing  to  wreck  the  entire  future 
happiness  of  two  fine  young  people,  spoil  their  en- 
tire lives !  Take  down  your  hands.  Look  at  me. 
Look  up,  I  say !  " 

Geraldine  was  astounded  to  find  herself  obeying. 
It  was  the  first  time  in  all  her  experience  that  any 
one  had  given  her  crisp  and  decisive  commands. 
She  was  dazed  that  a  stronger  will  than  her  own 
had  taken  control  of  her. 

"  Tommy,  I " 

"  I'm  not  through  yet.  You've  reached  the  end 
of  your  rottenness.  Come  on !  " 


286  THE  ENEMY 

He  helped  her  up.  She  was  so  bewildered  that 
she  could  not  make  up  her  mind  whether  to  be 
docile  or  rebel ;  but  she  went  with  him. 

'  We're  going  to  do  what  we  can  to  square 
Billy  with  Tavy,"  he  explained,  as  he  led  the  way 
out. 

"How?"  Her  voice  was  meek  and  humble. 
She  felt  that  she  should  be  resentful  to  Tommy, 
but  somehow  she  could  not  manage  it.  She  had 
had  her  first  whipping,  and  the  hurt  was  a  relief ! 

"  We're  going  to  explain  to  Tavy  right  now  that 
you  spiked  Billy's  punch,"  and  without  allowing 
any  time  for  a  refusal  of  this  drastic  plan,  he 
hurried  her  straight  into  the  little  ante-room. 

On  the  threshold  he  stopped  abruptly,  just  as 
Geraldine's  father,  coated  and  hatted,  came  down 
the  hall. 

The  room  was  empty! 


B 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

THE   DAWN   OF   A    NEW  DAY 

"T^ENNINGS'P"  The  voice  of  Mrs. 
Stuart  was  very  pleasant.  She  did  not 
want  to  be  a  bother,  so  she  concealed 
the  worry  which  was  beginning  to  grow  on  her. 

"  Yes,  ma'am."  A  sleepy  voice  at  the  other  end 
of  the  wire ! 

"Has  Mr.  Lane  left?"  She  was  apologetic. 
Tavy  must  be  having  a  delightful  time  to  be  so 
late,  but  really  one  couldn't  help  worrying.  It  was 
because  Tavy  had  never  attended  a  regular  party 
before,  she  supposed.  Mrs.  Stuart  was  not  used 
to  being  alone. 

"  Mr.  Lane  has  gone  home,  ma'am.  The  party 
broke  up  two  hours  ago.  Everybody's  gone." 

"  Thank  you."  Mrs.  Stuart  could  scarcely  pro- 
nounce the  words,  and  when  she  had  hung  up  the 
receiver,  she  went  to  the  window  and  opened  it, 
with  an  instinctive  need  for  cooling  air. 

Two  hours  ago  I  It  was  scarcely  more  than  a 
forty  minute  ride  out  to  the  Bennings'.  There 

287 


288  THE  ENEMY 

had  been  an  accident !  She  was  sure  of  it.  That 
had  been  Tavy's  first  certainty  the  night  when  Billy 
was  late  for  the  theater.  It  is  every  woman's  first 
certainty. 

Well,  what  could  she  do  about  it?  Wait! 
Nothing  else,  not  another  thing  which  she  could 
do;  so  she  waited,  and  the  dark  river  which  had 
flowed  for  countless  .ages  past  the  spot  where  she 
brooded  out  into  the  night,  flowed  on  and  on,  its 
surface  streaked  with  snake-like  swirls  of  oily  black 
and  shimmering  light.  It  was  maddeningly  mo- 
notonous, the  river,  as  it  carried  its  inexhaustible 
flood  of  water  endlessly  down  to  the  ocean.  Even 
the  spectral  lights,  hung  high  on  mast  tops,  were 
monotonous  as  they  rode  slowly  down  with  the 
stream.  The  ticking  of  the  little  Dresden  clock 
on  the  gray  mantelpiece  was  monotonous,  but  none 
of  these  things  was  so  wearisome  as  just  waiting, 
while  anything  and  everything  might  be  happen- 
ing out  there  in  the  dark  world! 

She  was  well-nigh  frantic  at  four  o'clock,  but 
at  that  hour  the  elevator  clicked,  and  she  was  at 
the  door !  Not  Tavy,  tired,  but  flushed  and  wide- 
eyed,  and  full  of  happiness  of  her  triumph.  Not 
Billy,  tall  and  smiling,  and  proud,  that  he  had 
taken  away  so  precious  a  charge  and  returned  that 


THE  ENEMY  289 

charge  in  safety.     Tommy  Tinkle  and  Geraldine 
Benning! 

"  Where's  Tavy?  "  Mrs.  Stuart's  voice  had  a 
shrill  break  in  it.  "  There  hasn't  been  an  acci- 
dent? " 

"  Not  to  Tavy."  Tommy's  tone  was  grave. 
"  Billy  had  a  slight  accident." 

She  knew!     Knew  the  whole  bitter  truth. 

"  Where's  Tavy?  "  The  ashes  had  come  back 
to  her  face,  to  her  voice,  to  her  eyes. 

"  With  Billy."  No  whimsicality  now  in 
Tommy.  "  She  slipped  away  with  him,  to  take 
care  of  him  I  think.  We've  been  hunting  them 
for  two  hours,  rather  aimlessly.  Mr.  Benning  is 
down  in  the  car,  asleep.  I've  formed  a  theory. 
Tavy  is  driving  about  some  place  with  Billy  until," 
Tommy  paused  for  a  word,  "  until  he  feels  better." 

Mrs.  Stuart  motioned  them  to  chairs,  but  she 
did  not  sit  down. 

"  He  was  drunk  again !  "  Nothing  can  express 
the  bitter  contempt  she  laid  upon  that  word.  "  Is 
there  no  way  to  find  them  ?  " 

"Only  by  luck,"  Tommy  told  her.  "I've 
telephoned  to  every  place  with  which  Billy  might 
be  in  communication;  but  no  one's  heard  of  him." 

Mrs.   Stuart  walked  up  and  down  the  floor, 


29o  THE  ENEMY 

her  nails  clenched  into  her  palms.  Her  face  was 
so  colorless  that  her  very  hair  seemed  to  be  turning 
grayer. 

"  It  is  perhaps  for  the  best,"  she  finally  decided, 
extracting  what  crumb  of  comfort  she  could  out 
of  that.  "  It  would  have  happened  sooner  or 
later  anyhow,  and  now  it  is  over." 

Tommy  turned  sharply  to  Geraldine.  "  Shall 
I  tell  her,  or  will  you?  " 

"  Tell  me  what?  "  She  stopped  abruptly,  and 
fastened  her  gaze  not  upon  Tommy,  but  upon  Ger- 
aldine. The  girl  started  to  cry,  and  in  Mrs. 
Stuart's  eyes  there  came  a  glow. 

"  Out  with  it,  Geraldine,"  sternly  commanded 
Tommy. 

Then  the  whole  miserable  confession,  between 
sobs  and  tears  and  pleas  for  forgiveness;  and,  as 
Geraldine  proceeded,  the  glow  in  the  eyes  of  Jean 
Stuart  burst  into  flame. 

"  And  you  did  this  to  my  girl !  "  she  cried. 
"  You,  who  have  everything,  did  this  to  my  Tavy, 
who  has  never  harmed  any  living  creature !  "  She 
stood  quivering  with  anger,  and  there  rose  in  her, 
for  the  first  time  in  her  gentle  life,  a  tigerish  lust. 

Tommy  Tinkle,  who  could  see  through  words 
and  faces,  and  even  thoughts,  raised  Geraldine 
from  her  chair  and  led  her  outside,  in  her  Egyptian 


THE  ENEMY  291 

costume,  and  came  back  to  Mrs.  Stuart  for  a  mo- 
ment. 

'  Would  you  rather  I'd  remain  here  with  you, 
or  shall  I  go  out  again  and  see  if  I  can  find  them?  " 

"Bring  me  Tavy!  "  she  begged.  "I  want 
her!" 

The  black  river  flowed  on  and  on  past  the  win- 
dows, its  current  streaked  with  monotonous  snake- 
like  swirls  of  oily  black  and  shimmering  white. 
The  little  Dresden  clock  ticked  monotonously 
away,  snipping  off  its  tiny  bits  of  time  and  tossing 
them  back  into  eternity.  The  stars  paled  from 
their  long  vigil  of  the  night,  and  still  Jean  Stuart 
did  everything  that  she  could  do ;  she  waited ! 

Was  there  no  way  that  she  could  reach  out 
through  the  night,  and  take  her  daughter  by  the 
hand  and  draw  her  home?  Was  there  no  way 
that  she  could  see  through  the  intervening  walls 
and  rest  her  eyes  upon  everything  she  had  in  the 
world  ?  Was  there  no  way  in  which  she  could  cast 
a  thought  upon  the  insensate  air,  and  glean  knowl- 
edge in  return?  Was  there  no  quarter  to  which 
she  could  turn  for  help,  for  news,  for  even  the 
sound  of  a  human  voice?  She  could  wait  no 
longer !  She  must  take  part  in  something  active ! 
If  she  were  only  to  go  down  on  the  Drive  and 
over  into  the  next  street,  to  look  she  would  feel 


292  THE  ENEMY 

that  she  was  doing  something,  no  matter  how 
futile,  toward  the  ending  of  this  intolerable  sus- 
pense. What  mad  freak  might  a  drunken  man 
take  into  his  mind,  into  what  trouble  might  he 
not  plunge,  into  what  desperate  surroundings 
might  he  not  take  Tavy!  Her  hand  was  on  the 
doorknob,  with  a  frantic  impulse  to  rush  out,  she 
knew  not  where,  and  stop  what  impending  danger 
there  might  be ;  but  a  new  thought  stayed  her  hand. 
Suppose  Tavy  should  come  home  and  not  find  her 
there?  No,  she  must  watch  the  endless  sweep  of 
the  river,  and  confine  herself  to  that  dreary  task 
which  has  been  the  lot  of  women  since  the  dawning 
of  time,  to  wait! 

She  was  thankful,  as  she  stood  in  the  bay,  that 
she  had  not  succumbed  to  her  insane  impulse  to 
leave  the  room ;  for  it  occurred  to  her,  for  the  first 
time,  that  at  any  moment  Tavy  might  telephone. 
She  realized  now,  that,  all  through  the  long  hours, 
her  ears  had  been  strained  for  the  first  sound  of 
that  bell. 

Suddenly  she  held  up  her  handkerchief  and 
looked  at  it.  She  had  been  tearing  it  to  shreds 
without  knowing  it.  She  must  do  something,  or 
she  would  go  mad !  The  telephone ;  that  was  her 
only  connection  with  humanity.  With  sudden  de- 
cision, she  went  to  it  and  called  up  Billy's  number. 


THE  ENEMY  293 

It  was  not  the  voice  of  Burke  who  answered. 
She  knew  his  broad  accents,  for  she  had  talked 
with  him  two  or  three  times  when  she  had  sent 
trifling  little  messages  for  Tavy.  It  was  an  older 
voice,  but  it  was  an  eager  and  an  alert  one,  with  no 
sleep  in  it;  Mr.  Doe,  no  doubt,  Billy's  partner. 
She  had  heard  something  of  him. 

"  Yes,  this  is  Mr.  Lane's." 

"  Has  he  come  home?  " 

"  Not  yet,  madam." 

"  Oh."  It  was  a  sigh  of  disappointment,  a 
confession  of  inadequacy,  an  appeal.  "  Thank 
you." 

That  was  all,  and  Harrison  Stuart  leaned  against 
the  wall,  trembling.  He  had  heard  her  voice! 
Jean's  voice!  He  knew  it  as  well  as  if  he  had 
talked  with  her  but  yesterday,  for  her  life  had  not 
known  the  terrific  changes  of  his.  He  paced  the 
floor.  Jean !  She  was  alone  up  there,  worried, 
sick,  frantic  with  anxiety,  with  desperate  misgiv- 
ings for  the  safety  of  her  daughter;  and  his! 
As  he  had  waited,  since  a  reasonable  hour  for 
Billy's  arrival  at  home,  so  she  had  waited.  As  her 
frantic  imagination  had  devised  one  frightening 
picture  after  another,  so  his  imagination  had  been 
at  work  with  its  apprehensions.  Scarcely  two 
miles  apart,  they  had  shared  the  same  solicitude, 


294  THE  ENEMY 

the  same  heartache,  the  same  anguish  through  all 
the  dreary,  lagging  minutes  of  that  long  night; 
and  she  had  no  one  to  comfort  her.  Jean !  He 
had  heard  her  voice,  her  dear  voice ! 

Dawn.  The  swirls  of  oily  black  on  the  surface 
of  the  never-ceasing  river  have  begun  to  merge  in 
the  swirls  of  shimmering  white,  and  now  a  lumi- 
nous grayness  begins  to  obliterate  them  both.  The 
stars  in  the  sky  are  paling  fast.  In  the  west,  one 
low-lying  cloud,  by  some  magic  of  reflection, 
catches  the  tinge  of  dull  pink,  and  the  lights  on  the 
Drive,  and  the  lights  in  the  little  enchanted  parlor, 
have  turned  a  sickly  yellow.  Over  the  earth  there 
comes  that  chill  which  is  the  shudder  of  the  uni- 
verse at  awakening.  Dull  day  is  breaking,  and 
bringing  with  it  its  always  new  burden  of  sorrow 
and  of  tears;  happiness  for  some,  perhaps,  but  not 
for  women  who  wait. 

At  last!  Just  as  the  low-lying  cloud  loses  its 
touch  of  pink  and  dulls  to  the  gray  in  which  this 
morning  is  to  shroud  itself,  there  comes  a  click 
of  the  elevator !  Again  she  is  at  the  door,  scarce 
knowing  how  she  arrives  there ;  but  it  is  not  Tavy, 
haggard  and  worn  from  her  watch  of  the  night, 
with  Billy  repentant  and  humble  and  ugly  with  his 
sin.  It  is  a  tall,  slender,  elderly  gentleman  with 


THE  ENEMY  295 

a  silver  Vandyke,  and,  when  he  removes  his  hat, 
a  crop  of  waving  white  hair. 

How  strangely  the  caller  stares  I  He  stands 
motionless !  He  tries  to  speak !  In  the  dark  gray 
eyes  there  is  a  swiftly  gathering  moisture,  and,  for 
some  unaccountable  reason,  she  begins  to  tremble ! 
Her  hands  grope  flutteringly,  then  a  great  flood  of 
light  leaps  up  in  her,  and  they  are  in  each  other's 
arms,  the  tears  of  love  blinding  their  eyes. 

Jean!  Oh,  thou  good  and  faithful  Jean! 
Thou  true  Jean!  Thou  Jean  that  has  suffered, 
and  borne,  and  waited!  Oh,  may  all  the  bless- 
ings of  Heaven  and  earth  be  thine,  thou  Jean! 
May  there  be  happiness  enough,  in  the  days  yet  to 
come,  to  efface,  in  part,  thy  misery  in  the  weary 
years  that  are  gone!  Jean!  Jean  I 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

HAPPINESS   IS   A   SELFISH    PLEASURE 

WHAT  should  she  do  with  him;  that  is, 
just  now?     Tavy  studied  Billy  in  dull 
silence,  as  he  sat  huddled  in  the  cor- 
ner of  the  car,  asleep.     Her  repugnance  of  him 
had  passed.     He  had  not  only  offended  her  deli- 
cacy, but  he  had  destroyed  it,  for  the  time  being; 
and  now  she  calmly  took  up  this  sordid,  practical 
question.     They  were  well  into  the  city,  by  this 
time,  so  she  told  the  chauffeur  to  drive  around  the 
Park  until  she  gave  him  further  orders. 

She  had  much  to  deliberate;  for,  on  what  she 
did  with  Billy  now,  might  depend  what  she  did 
with  him  in  the  future. 

Let  her  look  conditions  squarely  in  the  face. 
First  of  all,  she  had  no  illusions  left  about  her  love 
being  able  to  hold  Billy  safe  against  his  enemy. 
Her  mother  and  father  had  both  been  right. 
Through  life,  Billy  might  expect  to  meet  this  foe 
at  any  unforeseen  turn,  and  be  beaten  by  it,  and 

296 


THE  ENEMY  297 

kicked  aside  with  disdain,  a  helpless,  formless, 
brainless  —  what?  —  Bow- Wow ! 

That  was  her  first  sob,  that  thought.  Tommy 
had  been  most  kind,  but  he  had  not  deceived  her. 
They  were  all  the  same ;  Bow- Wow,  and  John  Doe, 
and  Harrison  Stuart;  and  her  father!  She  could 
give  way  to  weeping  now,  for  she  was  all  alone 
beneath  the  stars  and  the  bending  trees,  all,  all 
alone;  for  the  one  who  could  best  comfort  her 
in  any  affliction,  whose  strong  arm  should  be  her 
support,  whose  tender  sympathy  should  be  her 
stay,  was  huddled  there  in  the  corner,  locked  by 
numbness  in  that  lax  body  which  could  only  con- 
tain Billy  when  it  was  upright.  She  could  weep 
now,  but  it  was  not  the  girl  Tavy  who  wept;  it 
was  the  woman  Tavy.  The  girl  Tavy  was  gone, 
never  to  return. 

Oh,  Billy,  Billy !  Torn  by  her  need  of  comfort 
and  help,  she  reached  out  and  put  her  hand  upon 
him,  even  leaned  over  and  put  her  head  upon  his 
shoulder.  He  breathed  heavily,  and  mumbled 
something  in  his  sleep,  and  the  shoulder  of  the 
disturbed  animal  which  slumbered  there  in  stupor, 
shrugged  in  impatience  at  the  weight  which 
cramped  it.  It  was  the  shoulder  of  a  stranger 
upon  which  she  leaned,  and  she  straightened 
swiftly,  shocked,  but  not  hurt.  No,  it  was  too 


298  THE  ENEMY 

late  to  be  hurt.  That  had  been  done,  and  the 
wound  had  been  so  deep,  so  vital,  that  no  other 
cut  could  add  to  her  suffering. 

Let  her  dry  her  tears,  let  her  raise  her  head, 
let  her  be  strong,  for  she  needed  strength,  she 
who  had  thought,  on  that  afternoon  when  Billy 
had  first  taken  her  into  his  arms,  that  her  days  of 
battle  were  done,  since  here  was  a  champion  who 
would  wage  every  warfare  for  them  both ;  and  now 
her  champion,  disarmed  and  dishonored,  huddled 
there  in  the  corner,  without  a  hand  to  raise  in  her 
defense. 

Let  her  dry  her  tears  and  straighten  her  head, 
and  fold  her  hands  together  calmly;  for  now  she 
must  approach  another  grave  problem;  herself. 
What  of  her  love?  It  was  given.  She  knew 
that,  now,  but  the  knowledge  brought  her  no  joy. 
There  is  this  strange  thing  about  the  love  of  such 
simple  natures  as  Tavy's  and  Jean's;  it  can  be  cov- 
ered with  debris  of  every  offending  sort,  but,  scrape 
amid  the  refuse,  and  it  is  always  there.  It  will 
survive  abuse,  it  will  survive  anything.  She  de- 
spised that  love,  in  this  black  hour,  with  only  the 
company  of  the  cold  stars  and  the  bending  trees 
and  the  lonely  lights  which  shimmered  in  the  lake. 
She  would  have  plucked  it  from  her,  if  she  could, 
but  she  realized  the  futility  of  that  even  while  she 


THE  ENEMY  299 

reasoned  with  herself;  and  the  knowledge  was  a 
humiliation  to  her,  as  if  in  herself  there  was  some- 
thing of  baseness,  as  if  she  herself  were  doing 
something,  in  loving  Billy,  which  was  a  part  of  this 
degradation  he  had  suffered.  It  was  incredible 
that  in  her  there  was  still  a  spark  of  fondness  for 
this  huddled  object,  the  touch  of  which  had  re- 
pulsed her,  this  creature  which  breathed  so  heavily 
in  its  stupid  slumber.  Yet  she  was  clear-eyed 
enough,  truthful  enough,  and  unsmirched  enough 
of  soul  to  realize,  and  admit,  that  the  spark  was 
still  there.  Very  well,  then,  let  her  say  it,  let  her 
acknowledge  it,  to  her  shame.  She  had  given  her 
love,  and  it  could  not  be  recalled.  Love,  which 
exists,  not  to  be  beaconed  or  dismissed  at  will. 
What  next?  Oh,  Billy,  Billy! 

What  next  ?  That  was  a  harder  problem  than 
any,  a  problem  she  should  not  have  had  to  face. 
Why,  she  was  only  a  little  Tavy.  That  very  night 
she  had  been  a  girl,  in  her  dainty  little  white  chiffon 
frock,  with  the  flush  of  pleasure  in  her  cheeks, 
with  the  light  of  merriment  in  her  eyes,  with  imps 
of  mischief  twinkling  in  her  glossy  black  curls. 
Now,  suddenly,  she  was  old,  with  the  burden  of 
womanhood  heavy  upon  her  soul.  She  had  joined 
the  ranks  of  them  who  have  borne  the  weight  of 
all  the  world's  woes  since  the  world  began;  and 


300  THE  ENEMY 

that  Tavy  was  not  crushed  by  the  intolerable 
weight  is  the  reason  the  world  has  lasted. 

What  next?  Not  every  love  finds  fruition. 
There  are  loves  which  are  the  better  for  stifling. 
There  wander  through  the  world  a  countless  army 
of  silent  women  who  have  not  dared  love  where 
they  would,  and  so  have  paid  the  price  of  dwell- 
ing apart,  but  have  completed.  Happiness  ?  Pos- 
sibly not;  but  self-respect,  yes.  For  a  long  time 
she  pondered  that,  while  she  passed  between  the 
swaying  branches  down  the  west  drive  and  up  the 
east  drive,  and  across  by  the  ghostly  fountain 
splashing  away  in  its  great  basin  below,  its  pearl- 
like  drops  leaping  up  to  catch  the  light  of  the 
stars,  and  dropping  in  glee,  after  their  confine- 
ment, to  rush  away  on  a  long,  long  journey  they 
knew  not  where.  They  were  free,  those  drops  in 
the  fountain,  free  to  swirl  and  eddy  and  glisten, 
and  tumble  over  rocks  and  splash  up  in  foam  and 
spray.  Free ! 

Free?  There  is  no  such  thing  as  freedom. 
Those  drops  in  the  fountain  were  forced  through 
a  dark  pipe,  and  their  channels  were  made  for 
them;  and  so  are  the  channels  made  for  human  life. 
Even  let  her  decide  to  send  Billy  away  forever,  and, 
cramping  her  love  for  him  so  that  it  should  allow 
other  things  to  grow  in  her  heart,  her  future 


THE  ENEMY  301 

course  was  forced  upon  her.  Where  was  happi- 
ness? Where  was  it  kept  hidden?  There  had 
been  happiness  in  her  past,  though  she  had  scarcely 
noticed  it  at  the  time,  but  searching  through  every 
nook  and  cranny  of  her  future,  she  could  not  find 
it  again.  She  could  not  be  happy  if  she  married 
Billy.  She  could  not  be  happy  if  she  did  not. 
Very  well,  then,  let  her  say  that  there  was  no  hap- 
piness for  her,  except  in  the  joy  which  she  might 
bring  into  the  lives  of  others,  except  as  she  carried 
her  sorrow  in  cheerfulness,  and  with  a  smile  of 
patience  on  her  lips  and  in  her  eyes;  the  smile  of 
Jean.  How  well  she  understood  it  now.  Yes,  she 
would  say  it  calmly  and  with  cheerful  patience,  here 
under  the  far-off,  blue,  star-studded  vault  of  the 
sky;  there  was  no  happiness  for  her.  What  next? 
As  Tavy  saw  the  gray  shadow  of  that  "  next " 
moving  before  her,  she  smiled  the  smile  which  is 
never  seen  but  at  the  summit  of  the  pyre.  Duty. 
And  so  she  came,  at  last,  to  the  allotted  pleasure 
of  all  the  women  of  Jean  Stuart's  strain.  From 
mother  to  daughter,  through  a  long  race,  had  de- 
scended that  one  great  privilege  of  self-sacrifice; 
only  Tavy  had  found  it  young,  so  young  that  she 
had  not  yet  had  her  youth,  only  her  girlhood. 
She  was  thankful,  now,  for  the  gorgeous  party  at 
the  Bennings',  even  though  it  had  resulted  in  this 


302  THE  ENEMY 

disaster.  For  once  she  had  seen  the  glitter  of  the 
lights,  had  heard  the  languor  of  the  music,  had 
tasted  the  joy  of  youthful  happiness,  before  she 
grew  old,  and  had  set  upon  her  raven  curls  the  un- 
burnished  and  unglittering  crown  of  duty.  Very 
well,  then,  let  it  be  her  duty.  Happiness  was  but 
a  selfish  pleasure,  after  all. 

Where  did  her  duty  lie?  Not  to  herself.  To 
her  mother;  the  mother  who  had  suffered  so  many 
years  in  sweet  patience,  who  had  worn  her  crown 
of  duty  until  its  lusterless  gray  had  spread  into  her 
hair?  Yes,  much  of  her  duty  was  there.  And  to 
her  father;  the  father  who  had  come  back  from 
the  dead.  They  would  have  each  other,  the  father 
and  mother,  and  they  would  be  so  busy  in  scraping 
together  the  crumbs  of  happiness  which  were  still 
left  to  them,  that  not  much  self-sacrifice  would  be 
required  of  Jean.  Where  else  lay  her  duty?  To 
Billy?  He  moaned  in  his  torpid  slumber.  His 
head  hung  far  forward  so  that  his  collar  impeded 
his  breathing,  but  his  body  was  so  numb  that  it 
only  knew  it  was  uncomfortable;  so  it  moaned! 
She  lifted  his  head  and  rested  it  back  against  the 
cushion.  It  lopped  there  a  moment,  and  settled 
in  a  corner.  What  was  her  duty  to  Billy?  Three 
times  she  passed  the  fountain,  still  leaping  at  the 
stars,  and  splashing  with  weird  softness  into  the 


THE  ENEMY  303 

great  basin.  Three  times  she  passed  the  gray 
stone  panther  on  the  bank,  and  the  overhanging 
rocks  at  the  head  of  the  park,  and  the  gaunt,  dark 
hotels  at  its  lower  end,  and  still  she  was  revolving 
over  and  over  in  her  mind,  as  if  it  were  some 
monotonous  Sphynx-like  enigma  which  had  no  an- 
swer; what  was  her  duty  to  Billy? 

Dawn.  Over  the  earth  there  came  that  chill 
which  is  the  shudder  of  the  universe  at  awakening. 
Out  of  the  east  stole  long  gray  fingers  of  light, 
and  the  stars  paled,  as  if  their  eyes  were  dim  and 
sleepy  from  their  long  vigil  of  the  night;  the  foun- 
tain splashed  in  its  pool  with  a  metallic  ring,  as 
if  now  it  must  wake  to  work,  and  hammer  out  the 
hard  prosaic  fancies  of  the  day  rather  than  the  soft 
poetry  of  the  night;  and  the  lump  which  huddled 
in  the  corner  of  the  cushions,  stirred,  and  suddenly 
sat  bolt  upright,  and  was  Billy! 

There  was  a  cold  sensation  on  one  side  of  his 
face.  It  had  been  pillowed  upon  something 
warm;  Tavy's  shoulder.  She  was  just  removing 
her  cramped  arm  from  about  him.  Oh,  yes! 
They  were  coming  home  from  the  Bennings'. 
Great  party!  How  late  was  it?  All  this  while 
he  was  blinking  his  eyes  and  readjusting  himself  to 
life.  But  Tavy's  face !  How  drawn  it  was,  how 
pale,  how  hollow  her  eyes ! 


304  THE  ENEMY 

"Tavy!"  With  a  sudden  flood  of  memory, 
he  realized  what  he  had  done;  and  hideous  con- 
trition gripped  him. 

"  Yes,  Billy."  The  dead  voice,  but  still  with 
infinite  sweetness  in  it,  the  sweetness  of  them  who 
have  been  through  the  fires,  and  have  been  purified 
thereby  of  all  their  dross. 

"Tavy!  Tavy!"  There  was  something 
came  in  his  throat  which  choked  his  utterance,  but 
he  talked  above  it.  He  humbled  himself  in  deep 
abjectness;  he  poured  forth  all  his  regret,  all  his 
grief,  all  his  compassion  that  he  had  thrust  again 
this  shame  upon  her;  but  his  emotion  stirred  noth- 
ing in  her,  though  she  put  her  hand  in  his  and 
smiled  forgivingly  upon  him.  Then  he  realized 
that  the  end  of  the  road  had  come.,  that  he  must 
take  back  his  ring,  that  he  must  keep  his  word, 
that  he  must  not  plead  for  reinstatement,  but  must 
go  away,  so  that  she  might  forget  him,  and  the 
pain  he  had  brought  her. 

"  No,  Billy."  Her  voice  was  low  and  calm. 
She  had  fought  out  the  answer  to  her  enigma, 
while  the  dark  sky  paled  to  the  dawn  and  the  stars 
dimmed.  "  I  am  going  to  marry  you.  I  have 
work  to  do  in  the  world,  some  reason  for  being 
here;  and  that  is  it.  You  need  me." 

This  again  overwhelmed  him.     He  could  not 


THE  ENEMY  305 

believe  that  she  knew  what  she  proposed.  He 
could  not  permit  her  to  make  the  sacrifice.  He 
could  not  promise,  even  to  himself,  that  he  was 
safe! 

"  You  don't  understand,  Billy,"  she  quietly  told 
him,  and  there  was  that  in  her  strength,  in  her 
immense  superiority  over  him,  in  the  towering  of 
her  soul  into  heights  where  he  could  not  follow, 
which  awed  him  into  silence.  "  I  did  not  mean 
that  you  need  me  to  keep  you  from  this ;  but  that 
you  need  me  when  you  have  done  this."  She 
was  thoughtful  for  a  moment,  gathering  up  the 
threads  of  her  still  unfinished  reverie.  "  We  must 
drive  around  the  Park  again.  I  have  not  yet  de- 
cided whether  to  see  mother  before  or  after  we 
are  married." 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

HAM  AND   EGGS! 

NO  one  heard  the  click  of  the  elevator,  no 
one  heard  the  hesitant  footsteps  in  the 
hall;  for  the  long-separated  husband  and 
wife  now  sat  in  the  window,  near  the  dawn,  all 
their  story  told;  and  they  were  hand  in  hand. 
The  low-lying  gray  cloud  had  repented  of  its  dull- 
ness at  the  sight  of  the  ecstasy  in  their  faces,  and 
had  snatched  from  the  eastern  sky  a  perfect  riot 
of  carmine  glory. 

At  the  ring  of  the  bell,  however,  they  hurried 
to  the  door,  and  there,  at  last,  was  Tavy,  her  poor 
little  white  chiffon  frock  damp  and  wilted ;  and  in 
her  face  was  the  grayness  of  the  dawn,  in  her  eyes 
the  deadness  of  the  morning  stars. 

"Daddy!"  cried  the  weary  voice,  and  she 
sprang  into  his  arms;  then,  after  an  embrace  of 
but  a  second,  she  turned  to  her  mother  and  drew 
her  to  them,  and  bound  them  together  in  her  hun- 
gry clasp,  and  wept. 

"  Where  is  Billy?  "  asked  her  father,  as  soon  as 
306 


THE  ENEMY  307 

she  was  calm;  and  he  stepped  out  into  the  hall. 
No  Billy  was  there ! 

"  He  went  home,"  explained  Tavy,  dropping 
listlessly  into  a  chair.  "  I  would  not  let  him  come 
up  with  me." 

"  Where  have  you  been  all  night? "  Jean. 
Only  tenderness  in  that  question,  tenderness  and 
love. 

"  In  the  Park,  driving."  A  little  hesitation. 
"Billy  —  was  drunk.  I  kept  him  out  until  he 
woke  up,  sober.  I  meant  to  marry  him  to-day; 
but  he  refused." 

"Thank  God!"  Her  father's  tone  was  like 
one  in  grateful  prayer.  He  came  to  her,  Jean's 
hand  in  his.  "  We  must  send  for  Billy,"  and,  with 
infinite  compassion,  they  sat  beside  her  on  the  win- 
dow seat. 

"  I  do  not  want  him."  Still  the  dead  voice. 
"  I  offered  him  my  life."  Th«n  she  poured  out 
the  whole  story  of  her  drive  in  the  Park,  of  the 
steps  by  which  she  had  arrived  at  her  decision  of 
self-sacrifice;  and  Mrs.  Stuart's  heart  sank  as  she 
looked  at  her  daughter,  for  where  her  little  girl 
had  sat,  only  the  evening  before,  there  was  now  a 
woman,  the  director  of  her  own  destiny,  the  arbiter 
of  her  own  fate,  and  the  bearer,  God  help  her,  of 
her  own  burdens ! 


3o8  THE  ENEMY 

"  You  will  love  Billy  more  for  this,"  her  father 
gently  told  her.  "  No  good  man  could  accept  a 
gift  of  which  he  was  so  unworthy.  And  Billy 
is  good."  He  told  them  the  goodness  of  Billy, 
of  all  that  he  had  done  for  Harrison  Stuart,  and 
as  he  recounted  that  tale  of  sympathy  and  kindli- 
ness and  whole-hearted  helpfulness,  Tavy's  head 
came  up  and  some  of  the  dullness  left  her  eyes. 

"  Moreover,  Billy's  accident  is  not  to  be  counted 
against  him  this  time."  Jean  Stuart,  and  her 
voice  had  a  crisp  crackle  in  it.  "  He  was  tricked 
into  it !  The  punch  he  drank  was  made  especially 
for  him.  There  was  whisky  in  it,  and  it  was  put 
there  by  Geraldine  Benning !  "  The  crackle  in 
Jean  Stuart's  voice  became  still  more  crisp.  "  She 
made  Billy  drunk,  deliberately  to  break  his  engage- 
ment with  you!  She  sat  in  that  chair,  at  four 
o'clock  this  morning,  and  confessed  it  all,  and 
Tommy  Tinkle  stood  over  her  and  made  her  tell 
me!  Now,  through  her  jealousy,  she's  lost  both 
Billy  and  Tommy !  "  Every  line  in  her  face, 
every  lash  on  her  eyelids,  every  hair  on  her  head, 
showed  that  she  was  glad  of  it ! 

The  effect  on  Tavy  was  magical ;  at  first,  the  in- 
credulous horror  of  what  Geraldine  had  done ;  and 
then  the  joyful  realization  that  Billy  had  not  for- 
feited his  second  chance ;  and  then  the  thought  that 


THE  ENEMY  309 

she  wanted  him !  She  looked  toward  the  'phone, 
but  her  father  was  already  there,  and  calling  for 
Billy. 

Yes,  he  was  at  home,  and  frantically  worried  be- 
cause Hal  was  missing.  Would  Billy  come  up 
to  the  enchanted  parlor,  and  take  part  in  the  fam- 
ily re-union?  Would  he!  It  seemed  almost  no 
time  until  they  heard  a  whizzing  noise  far  down 
the  Drive,  and  then  he  was  there! 

"  Come  in,"  invited  Harrison  Stuart  with  a 
queer  sense  upon  him  of  playing  master  in  a  house 
where  he  had  small  right. 

It  was  a  very  humble  Billy,  even  though  a  very 
joyful  one,  who  came  into  the  enchanted  pink  and 
gray  parlor,  and  a  very  surprised  and  thankful  one 
when  he  found  that  his  pledge  was  not  considered 
broken. 

"  I'm  the  happiest  man  alive !  "  he  said  with  a 
choking  voice,  as  he  stood,  his  arm  about  Tavy, 
and  saw  that  there  was  nothing  but  affection  for 
him  in  those  three  beloved  faces. 

"  Shoulder  to  shoulder,  Billy,  side  by  side !  " 
encouraged  Stuart.  "  We  are  still  on  our  way, 
and,  when  we  reach  the  end  of  our  probation,  we'll 
come  up  here  together  and  claim  our  reward;  not 
until  then." 

Jean  Stuart  turned  to  him  in  surprise,  and  her 


3io  THE  ENEMY 

hands  fluttered  a  little  way  towards  him,  then  she 
dropped  them  at  her  side. 

"You're  not  going  to  stay?"  she  asked,  with 
a  catch  in  her  voice. 

"  Not  yet,  Jean."  How  straightly  his  head  was 
poised,  with  what  pride  his  shoulders  were 
squared.  "  I  have  six  months  in  which  to  prove 
my  right  to  wear  the  name  of  Harrison  Stuart." 

The  lips  of  Jean  twitched  piteously,  but  she 
looked  at  her  daughter,  where  Tavy  stood  by 
Billy's  chair,  and  she  conquered  the  great  longing 
which  welled  up  in  her.  It  did  not  seem  possible 
that  he  should  go,  now  that  he  had  come  to  her 
after  all  these  years;  but  Tavy  must  be  happy,  and 
perhaps  these  two  men  could  fight  out  their  long, 
hard  battle  together  better  than  they  could  apart. 
Once  more  Jean  Stuart  took  up  her  privilege  of 
self-sacrifice;  and  she  put  both  her  hands  on  her 
husband's  shoulders. 

"  If  you  think  that  will  be  for  the  best,  dear, 
then  it  shall  be  as  you  say." 

"  Why,  it  won't  be  a  separation,  Jean."  He 
kissed  her,  and  held  her  at  his  side.  "  We  are 
going  to  come  courting  every  evening,  and  we'll 
show  you  what  two  fine  young  men  you  have. 
Eh,  Billy?" 

Billy  shook  hands  with  him.     He  shook  hands 


THE  ENEMY  311 

with  everybody.  He  did  not  feel  much  like  talk- 
ing just  now,  but  he  fairly  ached  to  shake  hands. 
His  good  fortune  was  too  overwhelming  to  be  true, 
and  it  rather  had  the  effect  of  choking  him;  and 
when  Mummy  Stuart,  patting  his  hand  and  looking 
into  his  eyes  with  a  fondness  which  it  was  hard 
to  have  to  conceal,  said :  "  You've  been  a  good 
Billy  to  him,"  Billy  was  compelled  to  hastily  ex- 
cuse himself,  and  went  into  the  dining-room  alone, 
to  inspect  the  gold  fish. 

What  a  world  of  reminiscence  there  was,  by 
and  by,  when  everybody  was  calmed  down,  and 
they  could  talk  without  emotion.  Nearly  every- 
thing anybody  said  reminded  somebody  of  some- 
thing which  started  in  a  laugh  and  might  have 
ebbed  in  a  tear,  except  that  there  were  so  many 
other  things  to  come;  as  for  instance: 

"  Now  we  can  have  Daddy  at  the  theater  with 
us !  Has  he  told  you,  Mummy,  how  he  used  to  sit 
back  under  the  balcony,  with  Billy's  opera  glasses, 
and  watch  nothing  but  us  through  the  entire 
play?" 

Then  all  that  had  to  be  told;  and  how  Billy  had 
visited  every  Stuart  in  the  city  before  he  found 
them ;  and  how  Hal  had  made  Billy  describe  every- 
thing they  wore  and  every  article  in  the  room, 
after  that  first  visit;  and  how  Billy  had  made 


3i2  THE  ENEMY 

fraudulent  excuses  to  come  again,  first,  so  he  could 
tell  Hal  more  about  them,  and  then  so  he  could 
see  Tavy;  and  how  Hal  had  stood  out  in  the  cold 
rain  and  watched  the  windows  of  the  house  in 
pleasant  old  Vanheuster  Square;  and  the  intricate 
schemes  which  had  been  devised  to  get  money  to 
them;  and  Billy's  invention  of  the  poor  little 
daughter  who  died  so  horribly  in  the  theater  fire; 
and  an  excited  jumble  of  many  other  things!  Of 
course  the  secret  popped  out  about  the  house  which 
was  being  selected  for  the  home-coming  of  the 
royal  princess! 

It  was  not  to  be  such  a  gray  day,  after  all. 
The  misty  sky  was  clearing,  as  the  sun  came  up, 
.  and  the  river,  which  had  been  so  black,  was  dancing 
and  glinting  with  countless  sparkling  wavelets. 
The  laugh  of  Tavy  came  back,  and  even  Jean 
laughed  with  a  note  in  her  voice  which  had  not  been 
heard  there  for  many,  many  years;  and  the  men 
raised  in  spirits  .as  they  saw  they  had  made  these 
two  women  happy  once  more.  But  the  two 
women,  looking  into  each  other's  eyes,  saw  there 
what  the  men  could  not  see;  the  shadow  of  the 
specter  which  was  never  to  disappear ! 

By  and  by  came  an  apple-faced  little  German 
maid  who  slept  out,  and  her  china-blue  eyes  wid- 
ened in  astonishment,  as  she  found  there,  so  early 


THE  ENEMY  313 

in  the  morning,  a  dignified  elderly  gentleman  with 
a  silver  Vandyke  and  waving  white  hair,  and  Billy 
Lane!  The  sight  of  the  china-eyed  maid  gave 
Mrs.  Stuart  a  happy  idea.  She  suggested  break- 
fast, and  her  guests  brightened  visibly. 

By  and  by,  again,  there  was  a  strange  moment, 
when  these  four  sat  down  to  the  table  together 
for  the  first  time ;  but,  in  a  few  minutes,  they  were 
quite  a  little  family  party,  much  as  if  they  had  all 
belonged  together  for  a  long,  long  time.  If  the 
shadow  of  the  specters  were  still  in  the  eyes  of 
Tavy  and  Jean,  there  was  nevertheless  a  semblance 
of  happiness,  much  as  good  as  the  real  article,  in 
the  little  white  and  tan  dining-room.  It  was  so 
good  to  be  together,  so  inexpressibly  good ! 

There  was  a  ring  at  the  bell,  and  the  apple- 
cheeked  maid  came  through  to  answer  it.  Im- 
mediately there  appeared  in  the  door  of  the  din- 
ing-room one  dishevelled  T.  Tinkle,  his  topcoat 
buttoned  to  hide  his  dress  suit.  He  had  come  to 
report  that  he  could  not  find  a  trace  of  Tavy  and 
Billy  anywhere !  T.  Tinkle  took  one  comprehen- 
sive survey  of  the  party  at  the  table,  and  then  that 
whimsical  grin  spread  upon  his  wide  face.. 

"  Ham  and  eggs !  "  he  cried,  and  drew  up  a 
chair. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

CALLERS    FOR   JOHN   DOE 

TREMENDOUS  sensation !  The  office  of 
William  Lane,  Engineering  Architect, 
sprang  flamingly  into  the  public  print. 
It  had  captured  the  Pittsman  prize  for  the  most 
notable  structural  iron  engineering  feat  of  the 
year;  and,  on  a  crisp  winter  morning,  large,  noble 
portraits  of  William  Lane  appeared  at  every 
breakfast  plate !  Alongside  was  a  picture  of  the 
wonderful  dome  over  the  Arts  and  Sciences  build- 
ing! It  was  a  triumph,  but  the  unexpected  honor 
brought  small  joy  to  Billy  Lane.  The  marvelous 
floating  dome  was  Hal's  creation,  and  now  Har- 
rison Stuart  would  not  take  the  credit  for  it.  This 
was  merely  because  Hal's  year  of  probation  still 
lacked  a  month  of  its  completion,  and  he  would 
not  announce  himself;  so  Billy  was  miserable. 
While  they  were  still  at  this  argument  and  at 
Burke's  curried  omelette,  the  ladies,  bubbling  with 
joy,  called  up  to  congratulate  them.  This  was 

314 


THE  ENEMY  315 

Billy's  first  chance  to  vociferously  declare  himself 
an  impostor. 

At  the  office  the  controversy  broke  out  afresh. 
The  Pittsman  jury  of  awards  had  mailed  the  check, 
and  the  medal,  and  the  engrossed  honor  parch- 
ment, at  the  same  time  it  had  given  out  the  infor- 
mation to  the  newspapers;  and  now  here  was  the 
money,  a  hundred  thousand  dollars,  endorsed  in 
the  name  of  William  Lane.  William  Lane 
promptly  endorsed  that  check  to  John  Doe,  and 
carried  it  in  to  Hal,  and  thrust  it  in  his  hand. 

"  I'll  keep  the  honor  for  a  month  to  accommo- 
date you,  but  I'll  be  jiggered  if  I'll  keep  the 
money !  "  he  declared. 

"  You'll  keep  half  of  it !  "  as  firmly  announced 
Hal.  "  Now  don't  be  foolish,  Billy.  You  had 
some  share  in  that  floating  dome.  As  a  matter  of 
fact  it  never  would  have  been  created  but  for  you." 

"  Rot!  "  scorned  Billy.  "  I  only  said  it  would 
be  a  gorgeous  thing  to  do,  but  that  it  couldn't  be 
done.  Then  you  went  to  work  and  did  it." 

"  That  looks  to  me  like  an  equal  division  of 
labor,"  and  Hal  was  tremendously  relieved  to  find 
this  solution.  "  The  only  fair  thing  I  see  is  to 
divide  the  money." 

"I  won't  accept  it!"  Billy  squared  his  jaws- 
with  stubborn  determination. 


316  THE  ENEMY 

"And  I  won't  accept  it!"  Hal  slammed  the 
check  on  the  drawing  table  between  them,  and 
there  it  lay,  despised  and  useless. 

There  seemed  no  way  out  of  that  deadlock, 
and  the  difficulty  existed  until  Tommy  Tinkle,  who 
dropped  in  towards  noon,  decided  the  matter,  in  a 
twinkling. 

"  If  you  don't  want  the  money,  give  it  away," 
he  advised  them,  his  whimsical  grin  illuminating 
the  office.  "  I'd  take  it,  except  that  I'm  selfish 
and  don't  want  to  add  to  my  burdens.  But  why 
don't  you  go  to  the  bank  and  get  one  hundred 
one-thousand-dollar  bills,  put  fifty  of  them  in  a  blue 
box  and  fifty  in  a  pink  one,  and  present  them  to  the 
ladies?  I  claim  the  honor  of  making  the  presen- 
tation speech." 

They  nearly  shook  the  arms  off  Tommy  Tinkle 
for  that  clever  disposal  of  their  dilemma;  and, 
the  next  night  following,  the  blue  box  and  the  pink 
box  being  ready,  they  all  three  went  up  to  the  en- 
chanted apartments,  and  Tommy  Tinkle  made  a 
presentation  speech,  full  of  foolishness  and  good 
will,  and  the  quintette  held  a  celebration. 

Tommy  was  with  the  courting  party  a  great 
deal  these  days,  for  he  was  lonely,  and  there  was  a 
somberness  on  him  which  needed  much  gaiety  to  re- 
lieve it.  A  change  had  come  over  him,  and  it  was 


THE  ENEMY  317 

due  to  Geraldine  Banning.  Since  he  had  been  a 
very  small  boy,  Tommy  Tinkle  had  enshrined  Ger- 
aldine in  his  heart  as  a  goddess  without  flaw  and 
without  imperfection.  Now  that  she  had,  with 
her  own  hand,  shattered  that  idol  into  minute  frag- 
ments, Tommy  found  an  aching  vacancy  in  his 
heart  corresponding  exactly  to  the  space  the  idol 
had  occupied.  So  Tommy,  for  his  gaiety,  went, 
quite  logically,  to  the  place  where  there  always 
brooded  a  somber  specter  which  needed  to  be 
fought  off  with  gaiety. 

By  winter,  however,  the  specter  had  been  driven 
well  into  the  background,  and  only  now  and  then 
its  shadow  was  seen  in  the  patient  blue  eyes  of 
Jean  and  in  the  luminous  dark  gray  eyes  of  Tavy; 
but  sometimes,  even  in  the  happiest  moments,  an 
unexpected  word  or  sight  would  bring  back  a  flash 
of  hideous  memory;  and  this  is  the  price  of  wretch- 
edness, that  memory  never  lets  it  die ;  it  only  slum- 
bers. 

For  the  most  part,  however,  there  was  nothing 
but  joy  in  the  enchanted  apartments,  and  the  end- 
less current  of  the  river,  passing  the  cozy  little 
bay  window,  seemed  to  be  bearing  towards  them 
only  ecstasy.  That  had  been  a  glorious  summer 
and  fall,  for  never  were  two  belles  courted  more 
assiduously  than  Jean  and  Tavy  Stuart.  There 


3i8  THE  ENEMY 

were  the  regulation  flowers  and  candy,  and  drives 
and  picnics,  and  excursions  and  parties,  with 
Tommy  Tinkle  frequently,  and  in  great  glee,  wield- 
ing the  baton  in  this  melodious  quartette  of  love. 
These,  however,  were  only  the  ordinary  ac- 
tivities provided  by  a  pair  of  unusually  ardent 
wooers.  The  great,  the  marvelous,  the  over- 
whelming enjoyment  was  the  house  of  the  royal 
princess!  It  had  been  bought,  at  last,  and  paid 
for  out  of  Harrison  Stuart's  own  earnings,  a  beau- 
tiful little  cottage,  in  sight  of  the  river  and  within 
three  quarters  of  an  hour  of  the  city,  and  with 
ground  enough  to  build  another  cottage;  spacious 
lawns  between,  shaded  by  towering  old  trees. 
And  for  whom  was  that  new  cottage  to  be  built? 
Billy  and  Tavy,  of  course !  The  plans  were  being 
finished,  and  it  was  to  be  erected  while  they  were 
away  for  their  six  months'  study  of  the  architec- 
tural engineering  of  Rome,  and  Egypt,  and  Paris, 
and  almost  everywhere.  So  it  was  a  very  busy 
Jean  and  Tavy  and  Hal  and  Billy,  and  there  were 
scarcely  enough  hours  in  the  day  to  get  through  it 
all,  what  with  the  furnishing  of  the  house  for  the 
royal  princess  and  the  brain-tearing  problem  of 
the  new  honeymoon  cottage.  For  instance,  should 
the  billiard-room  be  just  off  the  dining-room,  or 
would  it  be  better  to  have  it  lead  off  the  library? 


THE  ENEMY  319 

You  see  how  important  that  could  be,  don't  you? 
Then  the  tiny  little  pink  and  gold  boudoir.  Should 
it  have  latticed  French  windows,  or  Colonial?  A 
trifling  detail?  Certainly  not;  for  the  solution  to 
that  tremendously  important  question  would  domi- 
nate the  artistic  treatment  of  the  entire  house  1 

Of  course,  the  men  had  business  to  look  after, 
but  the  ladies  were  equally  busy  at  those  times,  for 
there  were  trousseaux;  two  of  them.  And  such 
wonderful  hand  embroidery  was  never  wrought 
into  filmy  fabrics  as  that  created  by  the  patient 
fingers  of  Jean  and  the  loving  ones  of  Tavy;  for 
now  all  the  skill  which  had  been  lavished  on  the 
gay  little  court  lady  dolls  was  brought  into  urgent 
requisition.  As  Jean  worked,  her  eyes  grew  con- 
stantly brighter,  for  they  were  set  constantly 
asparkle  by  an  agreeable  gleam  from  her  finger. 
Oh,  yes,  she  wore  a  new  diamond  ring;  one  just 
like  Tavy's. 

There  was  an  added  dignity  on  the  night  Tommy 
Tinkle  presented  the  blue  and  pink  boxes,  for  now 
they  were  ladies  of  business,  with  property  in  their 
own  names  and  money  to  make  them  independent. 
Careful  and  cautious  ladies  of  business  they  were, 
for  the  very  next  day  they  bought  safe  and  solid 
bonds  which  would  yield  them  a  comfortable  in- 
come ;  while  Hal  and  Billy,  glowing  with  pride  in 


320  THE  ENEMY 

this  beautiful  achievement,  plunged  furiously  into 
work,  so  that  they  should  not  be  behindhand  when 
the  flood  of  new  commissions  overtook  them. 

There  was  only  one  cloud  in  Billy's  happiness; 
the  floating  dome  itself.  The  congratulations  he 
received  among  his  fellow  members  of  the  profes- 
sion "  got  on  his  nerves,"  and  especially  at  the 
T-Beam  Club,  where,  at  his  first  appearance,  they 
swallowed  their  jealousy,  and  surrounded  him  with 
a  solid  phalanx  of  hearty  good  will.  The  float- 
ing dome  was  not  a  mere  personal  achievement; 
it  was  a  gift  to  the  profession;  and  for  this,  Bravo 
Billy! 

"Nothing  like  it!"  Billy  had  all  he  could 
stand  of  obtaining  praise  under  false  pretenses. 
"  I  only  wish  I  had  devised  the  floating  dome,  but 
I  can't  take  the  credit  for  what  doesn't  belong  to 
me.  The  thing  was  invented  by  my  partner,  John 
Doe,  and  it's  a  corker !  " 

"  Then  why  isn't  John  Doe  a  member  of  the 
T-Beam  Club?"  demanded  jovial  old  Ainsley 
Pulham,  the  president  of  the  organization. 
"  Bring  him  around." 

"All  right,"  agreed  Billy  easily,  knowing  that 
Hal  would  not  come  for  another  month;  but  this 
was  the  easiest  way  out  of  it. 

To    avoid    further    importunity,    Billy    stayed 


THE  ENEMY  321 

away.  During  the  following  week,  however,  the 
name  of  John  Doe  grew  and  grew!  The  floating 
dome  was  not  a  matter  to  be  taken  lightly  by  those 
who  so  thoroughly  understood  and  appreciated  it; 
and,  moreover,  the  firm  of  William  Lane  had  be- 
come too  important  for  any  factor  of  its  tremen- 
dous success  to  be  overlooked! 

So,  one  bright  noon-time,  Ainsley  Pulham  with 
a  jolly  committee  from  the  T-Beam  Club,  stormed 
the  office  of  William  Lane,  and  demanded  of  the 
snub-nosed  office  boy  to  see  John  Doe.  They  not 
only  demanded  this,  but  they  followed  right  into 
the  private  office  of  the  dignified  elderly  gentleman 
with  the  silver  Vandyke. 

"  Mr.  Doe,  this  is  the  handshaking  committee 
of  the  T-Beam  Club,"  vociferously  announced  the 
gayly  shrivelled  president.  "  Get  acquainted. 
I'm  Ainsley  Pulham.  This  is  Walter  Hess,  fat 
but  sassy.  Henry  McCullough,  The  Beau  Brum- 
mel  of  the  club.  Dick  Morton,  our  best  little 
drinker.  T.  M.  Weatherby,  famed  as  a  sweet 
singer.  Write  us  a  check  for  a  hundred  dollars, 
John  Doe,  and  sign  this  application  blank." 

"  I'll  send  it  to  you,"  diplomatically  evaded  Mr. 
Doe,  pushing  back  in  his  mind  the  painful  memory 
of  a  disgraceful  orgy  and  an  expulsion  at  the  T- 
Beam  Club.  When  he  again  became  Harrison 


322  THE  ENEMY 

Stuart,  his  first  act  would  be  to  reinstate  himself 
there;  so  he  would  manage  to  hold  off  that  ap- 
plication blank  for  three  weeks.  However,  he 
shook  hands  pleasantly  with  Ainsley  Pulham.  No 
recognition  in  the  keen  blue  eyes  of  Pulham. 
Walter  Hess,  a  man  new  in  these  fifteen  years. 
Henry  McCullough.  Why,  Henry  had  been  a 
dapper  boy,  the  youngest  member,  in  the  long  past 
time.  Dick  Morton;  rollicking,  careless,  devil- 
may-care  Dick,  at  whose  elbow  — 

"  By  George,  it's  Harrison  Stuart !  "  Dick  Mor- 
ton's voice  thrilled  with  joy.  The  years  had 
taken  the  hair  from  him,  and  robbed  his  cheeks 
of  their  ruddiness,  and  put  gold  in  his  teeth,  and 
rounded  him  with  prosperity;  but  they  had  not 
touched  the  heart  nor  the  spirit  of  him;  and  here 
was  Dick,  shaking  both  of  his  old  crony's  hands, 
and  slapping  him  on  the  back,  and  pushing  him 
around  to  T.  M.  Weatherby,  and  Ainsley  Pul- 
ham and  Henry  McCullough,  for  further  hand- 
shaking and  back  slapping  and  vociferous  welcome. 

Why,  it  was  Harrison  Stuart  come  back! 
Stuart,  the  daddy  of  them  all,  the  most  glittering 
name  in  the  profession,  the  authority,  even  after 
fifteen  years,  on  the  fundamentals  of  construc- 
tional iron  work !  Harrison  Stuart !  Why,  God 
bless  us,  old  man,  there's  only  a  few  of  us  left, 


THE  ENEMY  323 

but  we  hold  you  in  our  hearts  and  our  memories 
in  affection  and  pride ! 

Yes,  they  did,  in  spite  of  all  that  he  had  done, 
they  held  him  in  their  memories  and  in  their  hearts 
with  affection  and  pride;  and  here  they  were, 
crowding  around  him  with  such  a  pandemonium  of 
welcome  that  the  snub-nosed  office  boy  debated 
seriously  the  turning  in  of  a  riot  alarm.  No  such 
disgraceful  proceedings  had  occurred  in  that  office 
since  earnest  young  William  Lane  had  started  to 
pay  more  rent  than  he  could  afford. 

"  Now  you  can't  get  out  of  it !  You  have  to 
come !  "  Ainsley  Pulham,  and  he  was  jamming 
Harrison  Stuart's  hat  on  his  head,  rear  side  fore- 
most. 

They  backed  him  into  his  coat,  they  jostled  him 
out  of  the  office  by  main  strength,  they  thrust  him 
into  an  elevator,  and  downstairs,  all  of  them  laugh- 
ing and  howling  like  schoolboys,  Harrison  Stuart 
laughing  with  them,  though  there  were  tears  in  his 
eyes.  They  crowded  into  a  machine,  and  whizzed 
away  for  lunch  at  the  T-Beam  Club ! 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

HONOR  UPON  HONOR 

*'/  •  "1  HE  quivering  question  which  agitates 
me  is  what  will  Tavy  wear?"  This 
"^  was  the  greeting  of  Tommy  Tinkle,  as 
he  entered  the  enchanted  pink  and  gray  apart- 
ments, with  a  roll  of  evening  papers  under  his  arm. 

"Where?"  Tavy  stopped  embroidering  a 
violet  on  something  which  looked  suspiciously  like 
a  yachting  collar,  and  Jean  Stuart  came  hurrying  in 
from  the  adjoining  room  with  an  embroidery 
frame  in  one  hand  and  a  work  basket  in  the  other. 
"  Tommy  Tinkle,  where !  " 

"  To  the  banquet."  Tommy  aggravatingly  sat 
in  the  bay  window,  with  a  nonchalant  appearance 
of  not  meaning  to  give  any  more  information  until 
it  was  dragged  out  of  him. 

"What  banquet?" 

"  At  the  Hotel  Nabob.  Pleasant  weather,  isn't 
it?  Looks  like  snow." 

Mrs.  Stuart  laughed  and  sat  down  opposite 
Tommy.  She  came  into  the  parlor  every  time  she 

324 


THE  ENEMY  325 

heard  his  voice,  for  fear  he  might  say  something 
funny  and  she  not  hear  it. 

Tavy  took  a  deliberatively  painstaking  stitch  in 
her  violet,  and  affected  as  great  a  degree  of  in- 
difference as  Tommy  Tinkle. 

"A  little  warm  for  snow,  don't  you  think?" 
she  drawled.  Another  painstaking  stitch.  "  Still, 
it  was  snowing  this  time  last  year.  I  like  the  snow, 
don't  you?  Tommy  Tinkle,  if  you  don't  tell  me 
all  about  this  banquet,  I'll  scream  1  " 

"  Then  I'll  wait  until  you  do,"  and  the  aggravat- 
ing Tommy  lit  a  cigarette.  "  Oh;  I  might  add 
that  the  banquet  is  to  be  given  by  the  T-Beam 
Club."  He  cast  a  sly  glance  in  the  direction  of 
Jean  Stuart.  She  had  dropped  her  embroidery 
frame  in  her  lap,  and  was  gazing  at  Tommy  with 
quiet  patience.  She  remembered  the  T-Beam 
Club !  "  There  will  be  just  a  few  guests  in  the 
ladies'  gallery  after  the  coffee,  and  I'm  wondering 
if  Tavy  will  wear  one  of  the  new  trousseau  gowns, 
or  just  a  regular  frock.  Oh;  I  might  add  that  the 
banquet  is  to  be  in  honor  of  Harrison  Stuart." 

"Tommy!"  cried  Tavy.  "They've  found 
him  out !  " 

"  Everything.  They  know  that  he  invented  the 
floating  dome.  They  know  that  he's  Billy's  part- 
ner. The  T-Beam  fellows  came  up  to  the  office 


326  THE  ENEMY 

and  got  him,  while  Billy  was  out.  They  arranged 
for  the  banquet  on  the  way  to  the  club.  It's  a 
week  from  to-morrow  night.  So  the  newspapers 
know  it;  and  now,  Tavy,  you  have  a  regular 
daddy." 

Mrs.  Stuart  was  half  laughing  and  half  crying, 
but  Tavy  was  clapping  her  hands. 

"  So  they're  glad  they  found  Daddy!  "  she  ex- 
ulted. 

"Glad?  They're  crazy."  Tommy  handed 
them  the  roll  of  afternoon  papers  which  contained 
just  the  first  announcements  of  the  tremendous  sen- 
sation. "  Now,  ladies,"  and  Tommy  flourished 
his  cigarette,  "  trust  me.  I  am  your  friend. 
I  hurried  up  here  to  beat  the  reporters.  Billy 
is  handling  them  at  the  office,  and  Burke  at  the 
apartments.  Harrison  Stuart  is  hidden.  I  think 
there  is  a  reporter  in  the  hall  by  this  time," 
and,  sure  enough,  the  doorbell  rang.  "  Dis- 
appear," he  told  them.  "  The  romance  is  Billy's. 
It's  as  good  as  the  little  daughter  who  was  burned 
in  the  theater  fire,  but  not  so  horrible." 

To  see  Tommy  Tinkle  handling  reporters  and 
guarding  the  ladies  in  their  retreat  would  have 
been  a  joy,  and  it  would  have  been  a  revelation  in 
the  art  of  sympathy  to  hear  him  tell  how  Har- 
rison Stuart  lost  his  memory  for  fifteen  years, 


THE  ENEMY  327 

through  a  fall  from  a  roof,  and  wandered  all  over 
the  world,  under  the  name  of  John  Doe,  until  he 
was  brought  back  to  memory  by  the  sight  of  his 
old  friends  in  Billy  Lane's  office! 

That  was  a  busy  week  in  the  enchanted  apart- 
ments, a  busy  and  a  proud  week,  for  the  papers 
were  full  of  nothing  but  the  marvelous  romance 
of  Harrison  Stuart,  of  his  tremendous  achieve- 
ments, of  his  dignified  position  in  the  world  of 
structural  engineering,  of  his  pictures,  front  view, 
profile,  and  three  quarters,  standing,  walking,  and 
riding  in  a  machine,  working,  laughing,  and  smok- 
ing a  cigar.  There  were  pretty  stories,  too,  about 
the  charming  wife  and  daughter  who  had  waited 
for  him  all  these  years,  and  of  the  enchanted  par- 
lor, and  the  paper  on  its  walls,  and  the  shape  and 
color  of  the  piano,  and  the  pattern  of  the  rug,  and 
other  important  details.  Pictures,  too,  of  the 
charming  ladies.  There  was  no  escaping  that,  for 
the  whole  neighborhood  was  alive  with  clicking 
cameras;  and,  if  the  papers  didn't  get  good  pic- 
tures they  would  use  bad  ones,  or  forge  some. 
So  Tommy  Tinkle,  with  a  proper  pride  in  his 
friends,  saw  that  they  got  good  ones.  Some  of 
the  papers  insisted  on  engaging  beautiful  Tavy 
to  Tommy  Tinkle !  They  were  rather  friendly  to 
the  newspapers,  the  Stuart  ladies,  because,  while 


328  THE  ENEMY 

the  reporters  made  life  a  burden  to  them  for  three 
days,  everything  was  so  superlatively  complimen- 
tary; and  there  was  not  one  hint  anywhere  of  the 
enemy  which  had  really  robbed  Harrison  Stuart 
of  his  memory,  and  of  everything  else  worth 
while. 

Honors  heaped  upon  honors !  Behold  Jean  and 
Tavy  Stuart  ushered  by  Tommy  Tinkle  into  the 
ladies'  gallery  of  the  Hotel  Nabob,  and  screened 
behind  a  Moorish  jalousie,  upon  which,  by  some 
magic,  had  grown  a  purple-blossomed  vine  without 
roots  and  without  earth  and  without  water.  Be- 
low, under  the  tons  of  ceilinged  gold  and  stucco, 
and  beneath  the  tons  of  crystalled  chandeliers,  and 
attended  by  so  many  waiters  that  the  place  is  black 
with  them,  sits  the  T-Beam  Club,  a  sombre  look- 
ing collection  of  black-clad  gentlemen,  all  with 
crinkly  or  shiny  shirtfronts,  and  all  with  stiff-look- 
ing white  bow  ties,  and  all  miserably  solemn,  as  is 
proper  at  a  banquet,  for  now  the  coffee  has  ar- 
rived and  the  speeches  will  begin. 

What  a  disappointment!  Of  course  the  ban- 
quet table  is  shaped  like  the  cross  section  of  a  huge 
T-beam,  with  the  toastmaster  and  the  principal 
speakers  in  the  center,  and  the  unimportant  new 
members  far  away  at  the  flanges,  but  the  seating 
is  so  arranged  that  a  fat  man  hides  the  guest  of 


THE  ENEMY  329 

honor  almost  completely  from  the  view  of  the 
ladies  in  the  gallery;  and  if  they  shift,  he  is  more 
completely  hidden  by  one  of  the  two  absurd 
Corinthian  columns,  made  of  flowers  and  bearing 
huge  lanterns  upon  which  glow  the  club  monogram ; 
so  the  ladies  stay  where  they  are,  and  get  such 
glimpses  as  they  can  of  the  bald  spot  at  the  radial 
center  of  Harrison  Stuart's  gray  hair.  Sometimes 
he  moves  and  then  they  can  see  a  part  of  his  face. 
Once  he  leaned  far  back,  and  they  saw  his  silver 
Vandyke.  It  was  a  thrilling  moment ! 

Now  the  toastmaster.  Ainsley  Pulham,  of 
course.  He  raps  for  order,  with  a  gavel  the  head 
of  which  is  naturally  from  the  cross  section  of  a 
T-beam;  and  he  drones  along  for  half  an  hour, 
with  many  an  elaborate  joke,  and  many  a  senti- 
mental quotation  about  their  beloved  and  distin- 
guished fellow  member,  who  has  come  back  to 
them,  out  of  the  great  sea  of  oblivion,  to  take  his 
rightful  place  in  their  hearts.  A  toast,  gentlemen, 
to  our  beloved  and  distinguished  fellow  member, 
Harrison  Stuart,  the  most  valuable  jewel  in  the 
glittering  diadem  of  the  profession!  (Prolonged 
applause.) 

With  a  will,  they  drink  that  toast  to  Harrison 
Stuart,  and  he  drinks  with  them  in  sparkling  water, 
untroubled  by  the  glass  of  yellow  champagne 


330  THE  ENEMY 

which  hisses  at  his  hand.  Far  down  the  table, 
Billy  Lane  leans  forward  to  catch  the  eye  of  Hal. 
Billy  drinks  the  toast  in  wine.  He  has  no  cause 
to  be  afraid  of  that,  and  he  turns  and  lifts  his 
glass  toward  the  jalousie  lattice,  which  permits  the 
ladies  to  see  and  not  be  seen.  This  lattice  is  a 
grievous  imposition,  for  Tavy  frantically  waves 
her  handkerchief  at  him  in  answer  to  that  up- 
raised glass;  but  he  cannot  see  it.  Billy  is  in  plain 
view,  and  that  is  a  comfort,  for  he  is  the  hand- 
somest and  most  distinguished  looking  young  man 
there ;  by  all  odds ! 

Now  the  response.  The  guest  of  honor  is  on 
his  feet,  modest,  unassuming,  but  his  heart  deeply 
touched  by  this  tribute  they  have  paid  him  — 
after  all  that  he  had  done  I  A  neat  little  speech, 
but  quite  short,  and  in  a  low  voice,  and  full  of 
thanks. 

Ainsley  Pulham  again.  "  The  Floating 
Dome,"  that  new  marvel  of  the  structural  world, 
and  the  response  will  be  made  by  that  phenome- 
nally brilliant  and  successful  young  engineering  ar- 
chitect, William  Lane,  the  partner  of  the  famous 
Harrison  Stuart ! 

No  low  voice  here.  Billy  Lane,  in  a  deep  rich, 
baritone,  tells  them  all  about  the  floating  dome,  its 
inception,  its  beauty,  its  value,  its  development  of 


THE  ENEMY  331 

a  new  principle  of  construction  which  will  revolu- 
tionize the  science !  Who  would  ever  have 
thought  that  Billy  Lane  was  such  an  orator? 
With  sure  control,  and  smooth  words,  and  rounded 
sentences,  and  contagious  enthusiasm,  he  made  the 
floating  dome  as  interesting  as  a  page  out  of  the 
Arabian  Nights  Tales;  but,  when  he  came  to  the 
inventor  of  that  marvel,  then  indeed  he  rose  to 
heights  of  eloquence,  for  here  was  a  topic  upon 
which  he  could  say  his  say  with  a  full  heart  and 
sturdy  belief!  His  voice  pulsed  and  reverberated 
throughout  the  length  and  breadth  of  the  banquet 
hall,  vibrated  amid  the  crystal  of  the  chandeliers 
and  the  stucco  and  gold  of  the  ceilings,  throbbed 
into  the  ladies'  gallery,  penetrated  to  the  inner- 
most recess  of  Tavy  Stuart,  so  that  she  fairly 
quivered  with  the  pride  and  glory  of  it  all !  Were 
there  ever  two  such  remarkably  clever  and  brilliant 
and  majestic  men  as  Harrison  Stuart  and  Billy 
Lane  ?  Never !  And  in  the  burst  of  stupendous 
applause  which  followed,  Jean  and  Tavy  Stuart 
laughed  and  laughed  for  joy,  and  wiped  their 
eyes,  and  held  hands. 

More  speeches,  with  Ainsley  Pulham  in  be- 
tween, sometimes  getting  his  jokes  mixed,  and 
sometimes  delivering  in  advance  the  meat  out  of 
the  next  speaker's  talk,  but  always  fresh  and  smil- 


332  THE  ENEMY 

ing  and  tireless,  and  so  abundantly  supplied  with 
words  that  it  was  a  wonder  there  were  any  left. 

Dick  Morton,  on  "The  Good  Old  Days." 
Henry  McCullough,  on  "  The  Wedding  of  Iron 
and  Concrete."  Walter  Hess,  on  "  The  Future, 
What  of  It?  "  T.  M.  Weatherby,  on  "  Fifteen 
Years  of  Iron." 

That  was  a  most  interesting  speech  to  Harrison 
Stuart.  It  told  him,  in  the  concise  and  logical 
phraseology  of  a  man  thoroughly  versed  in  the 
technique  of  his  science,  the  exact  progress,  step 
by  step,  of  structural  iron  work  from  the  time  Har- 
rison Stuart  died  until  he  came  back  to  life.  The 
man  who  had  been  away  during  those  fifteen  years 
listened  in  abstracted  concentration,  and,  now  and 
then,  as  he  gave  his  rapt  attention  to  the  speaker, 
sipped  from  his  glass,  not  noticing  that  he  was 
drinking  the  champagne.  That  habit  came  back 
to  him  naturally  and  without  thought,  after  fifteen 
years  of  absence  from  banquets,  just  as  the  habit 
of  politeness  had  come  back  to  him.  The  waiters 
passed  quietly  down  along  the  table,  and  set  little 
decanters  of  after-coffee  brandy  at  close  intervals. 

There  were  other  speeches,  some  droning  and 
dry,  some  frivolous  and  enlivening,  some  tensely 
interesting  from  a  technical  standpoint;  but  late, 
towards  the  close  of  the  evening,  when  the  ladies 


THE  ENEMY  333 

in  the  gallery  were  painfully  fighting  off  drowsi- 
ness, and  Tommy  Tinkle  was  doing  everything  he 
could  to  keep  Tavy  and  Mrs.  Stuart  awake,  there 
suddenly  burst  a  new  voice  on  the  assemblage. 

"  Whisky!  "  The  tones  were  startling  in  their 
coarse  raucousness.  "  It's  the  curse  of  the 
world!"  The  voice  rose  to  a  senile  shriek. 
"  There  is  no  hell  but  whisky!  Drink!  It's  the 
enemy  of  man  and  God!  It  burns  the  body  and 
it  sears  the  brain !  Whisky !  " 

There  was  a  shriek  from  the  ladies'  gallery.  It 
was  not  Harrison  Stuart  who  swayed  there,  his 
face  flushed  and  puffed,  his  bleared  eyes  half 
closed,  and  his  lips  formless;  but  a  beast,  an  ani- 
mal, a  Thing  from  another  world.  It  was  Bow- 
Wow! 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

IN  THE  SILENCE  OF  BLACK  NIGHT 

THEY  wanted  to  wait  for  him,  those  two 
stricken  women  in  the  gallery,  to  take  him 
home  with  them,  for  in  their  hearts  was 
no  resentment,  only  pity.  But  Tommy  Tinkle 
would  not  let  them.  He  sent  word  to  Billy  that 
he  had  them  in  charge,  and  took  them  home,  and 
said  what  consoling  things  he  could.  It  was  not 
much  of  a  lapse,  it  was  more  excitement  than  any- 
thing else,  Billy  would  have  him  all  right  in  the 
morning,  such  things  were  to  be  expected,  and 
wasn't  it  a  stunning  speech  that  Billy  made ! 

Yes,  such  things  were  to  be  expected,  and  that 
was  the  awful  tragedy  of  it.  Again  the  spectral 
shadow  claimed  its  firm  seat  in  the  blue  eyes  and 
the  dark  gray,  and  the  Stuart  women  took  up  the 
allotment  nature  had  made  for  them. 

Billy  telephoned  them  shortly  after  they  reached 
home.  Hal  was  resting  quite  comfortably  now. 
He  had  not  drunk  very  much.  He  had  sipped 
at  his  champagne  without  knowing  it,  and  then  he 

334 


THE  ENEMY  335 

had  taken  some  of  the  brandy,  and  of  course,  with 
the  taste  of  that  on  his  tongue,  he  did  not  quite 
realize  what  he  was  doing.  He'd  be  fine  in  the 
morning,  and,  after  all,  it  was  more  the  excitement 
than  anything  else. 

But  Billy  knew  better.  Hal's  first  act,  when 
they  had  left  him  alone  for  a  moment  to  prepare 
his  bed  and  his  medicine,  had  been  to  rouse  from 
a  seeming  lethargy  and  snatch  the  decanter  I 
Burke  came  back  in  time  to  seize  it  from  him;  but 
already  he  had  swallowed  the  equal  of  a  tumbler- 
ful, and,  laughing  with  a  gurgle  in  his  throat,  he 
let  them  put  him  to  bed.  Almost  as  soon  as  he 
laid  his  head  on  the  pillow,  he  dropped  into  a  pro- 
found stupor. 

"  It's  a  damn  shame  —  beg  your  pardon,  sir  — 
after  the  fight  he's  made."  This  was  Burke,  and 
he  helped  Billy  off  with  his  coat  and  vest.  "  I 
think  I'll  sit  up  and  watch  him." 

"  I  expect  you'd  better,"  decided  Billy,  and  he 
put  Hal's  hands  under  the  covers.  The  window 
had  been  opened,  and  it  was  rather  cold  in  the  blue 
room.  "  Call  me  if  he's  any  trouble." 

So  Billy,  heavy-hearted,  went  to  bed,  and  Burke 
made  himself  comfortable  in  robe  and  slippers, 
and  put  another  log  on  the  fire  in  the  big  lounging- 
room,  and  sat  with  pipe  and  paper.  Mr.  Stuart 


336  THE  ENEMY 

slept  very  well,  indeed.  Burke  went  in  to  look  at 
him  about  twice  an  hour,  and  once,  by  accident,  he 
dropped  a  metal  tray  with  a  terrific  clang;  but  there 
was  no  waking  the  man.  Burke  went  back  and 
sat  on  the  big  leather  couch,  and  looked  into  the 
fire,  and  thought  on  the  Widow  Maloney  with  par- 
ticular satisfaction;  for  he  had  carefully  concealed 
from  her  that  in  two  more  weeks  he  would  be 
sailing  over  the  seas  and  far  away,  with  Mr.  Billy 
and  his  pretty  bride.  Otherwise  the  determined 
Nora  might  marry  him.  Two  more  weeks! 
Pretty  little  Miss  Tavy,  God  bless  her,  would 
make  a  beautiful  bride;  two  more  weeks  and  the 
royal  princess,  she  was  a  sweet-minded  lady,  God 
bless  her,  would  move  into  the  new  house,  and 
Harrison  Stuart  would  come  into  his  own  again; 
and  might  he  always  be  happy,  and  prosperous  — 
and  safe!  So,  pleasantly  musing,  Burke  nodded 
his  head  lower  and  lower,  and  fell  into  the  dead 
sleep  of  them  who  sit  up  late  o'  nights. 

That  numb  carcass  which  was  Bow- Wow  stirred 
uneasily.  Something  was  wrong.  There  is  no 
resisting  the  ultimate  command  of  the  body. 
When  it  is  born,  a  mind  and  a  soul  spring  into 
existence.  When  it  has  reached  its  time  to  die, 
the  mind  and  the  soul  have  no  say  in  the  matter; 
so,  in  this  life,  the  body  is  always  supreme.  It  de- 


THE  ENEMY  337 

mands  to  be  fed,  to  have  its  thirst  quenched,  to 
lie  in  slothful  slumber;  and  if  it  be  refused  these 
things,  it  ousts  mind  and  soul. 

The  body  of  Bow-Wow  commanded  his  mind 
to  awaken;  and  it  did;  awakened  to  its  full 
strength,  to  its  full  intellectual  capacity,  to  the 
full  measure  of  its  understanding;  and  all  those 
mental  powers  were  comprised  in  one  muttered 
word,  which  broke  huskily  upon  the  silence  of  black 
night: 

"Whisky!" 

Bow-Wow  opened  his  eyes.  Darkness,  shot 
with  glimmering  light.  He  reached  out  his  arms. 
Space!  Groaning,  he  sat  up,  painfully,  and  en- 
deavored to  locate  himself.  Through  the  win- 
dows there  came  the  faint  illumination  of  the 
street,  and  the  moist,  cold  air  of  the  snow.  A 
door  stood  ajar,  letting  in  a  slit  of  dim  radiance 
from  the  room  beyond.  Bow-Wow  shivered. 
He  was  thinly  clad.  He  was  trembling,  too,  from 
head  to  foot,  with  a  strange  nausea. 

What  was  this  thing  which  had  happened  to 
him?  He  was  in  a  luxuriously  furnished  blue 
room,  and  on  a  bed  of  easy  mattresses  and  clean 
white  linen.  He  had  no  more  memory  of  this 
room  than  if  he  had  never  seen  it  before.  He 
had  come  into  this  house  in  a  drunken  stupor,  he 


338  THE  ENEMY 

had  lived  a  year  of  clean  life,  and  now  he  was  in  a 
drunken  stupor  again,  a  torpor  which  joined  and 
linked  itself  almost  without  joint  to  that  other  tor- 
por, blotting  out  the  intervening  year  as  if  it  had 
never  been.  How  had  he  come  here?  In  all 
his  fuddled  consciousness  he  could  find  no  trace 
of  an  answer  to  that  mystery;  and  the  effort  at  any 
thought,  further  than  his  physical  self,  wearied 
and  weakened  and  sickened  him.  He  gave  up, 
the  vague  and  feeble  attempt  at  reasoning,  and  re- 
turned to  the  one  idea  which  he  could  comprehend ; 
whisky ! 

He  rose  and  tottered  out  of  the  room.  He 
found  himself  in  a  softly  carpeted  hall.  There 
was  a  light  at  the  end,  a  flickering,  wavering  red 
glow.  With  many  a  stop  for  breath,  and 
strength,  and  steadying  of  nerves,  he  edged  along 
the  wall  until  he  reached  a  large  lounging-room, 
comfortable  with  leather  chairs  and  couches,  where 
a  half  spent  log  in  the  fireplace  cast  the  ruddy 
reflection  of  its  dying  flames  upon  well  chosen 
pictures  and  queer  objects  of  art  from  every  quar- 
ter of  the  world.  Dazed,  bewildered,  he  stood, 
swaying,  and  blinking  stupidly  at  the  fire.  There 
was  a  redheaded  man  in  a  lounging  robe  asleep  on 
the  couch.  Bow-Wow  did  not  know  him. 

Whisky!     He  looked  all  about,  and  now  oc- 


THE  ENEMY  339 

curred  a  strange  phenomenon.  In  Bow-Wow's 
mind  there  was  no  memory  of  this  room;  but  his 
body  remembered!  It  led  him  automatically  to 
the  lounging-room  table,  the  library  table,  the 
buffet,  the  pantry.  No  whisky!  He  must  have 
it!  There  was  a  burning  in  him.  There  was 
fever  in  his  veins,  and  yet  he  shivered  with  the 
cold. 

'Whisky!  Whisky!"  His  quivering  voice 
started  in  a  whine  and  ended  in  a  wail.  Auto- 
matically he  wandered  back  to  his  bedroom,  and 
then  again  that  queer  memory  of  the  body  directed 
his  sodden  mind.  He  knew  a  barrel-house  which 
kept  open  all  night.  Mechanically  he  opened  the 
cupboard  and  drew  down  the  first  clothes  he  found, 
a  plain  brown  business  suit,  and  dressed  himself 
with  quick,  nervous  little  jerks.  As  unconsciously 
he  took  money  from  the  drawer  in  his  dresser  and 
stuffed  it  in  his  pocket.  These  things  were  done 
as  independently  of  his  mind  as  if  he  had  been 
a  clock-work  figure.  Whatever  grain  of  actuat- 
ing intelligence  he  had  was  centered  on  the  one 
thing;  whisky!  The  taste  was  on  his  tongue! 

He  passed  out  through  the  lounging-room,  and, 
as  his  eyes  fell  on  the  red-headed  man  asleep  on 
the  couch,  he  moved  stealthily.  Instinct  pointed 
out  the  red-headed  man  as  a  foe,  as  a  detaining 


340  THE  ENEMY 

force;  and,  aside  from  his  need  for  a  drink,  the 
inherent  prompting  for  freedom  had  come  upon 
him.  He  was  cramped  here.  He  began  to  be 
aware  of  coercion,  and  there  is  no  human  soul  so 
debased,  so  feeble,  that  in  its  depth  it  does  not 
resent  coercion. 

From  Billy's  room  there  came  the  sound  of 
deep  and  regular  breathing.  It  meant  nothing 
to  Bow-Wow,  no  more  than  all  this  unfamiliar 
furniture.  In  that  chair  he  had  sat  night  after 
night,  as  Harrison  Stuart,  and  had  dreamed  his 
dreams  and  planned  his  plans.  It  meant  nothing. 
In  that  seat  by  the  window  he  had  conceived  the 
daring  solution  to  the  problem  of  the  floating 
dome,  and  on  the  wall  above  it,  illuminated  by 
the  ruddy  glow  of  the  fire,  was  a  beautiful  water 
color  sketch  of  the  floating  dome  in  completion. 
Nothing.  Near  the  door  was  the  telephone. 
How  many  nights  and  mornings,  in  the  past 
months,  had  Harrison  Stuart  stood  and  talked  to 
Jean  and  Tavy. 

Stop,  you  Bow-Wow,  who  hold,  confined  within 
you  and  cramped  into  some  hidden  recess,  the  soul 
of  Harrison  Stuart!  Here,  at  last,  is  something 
which  will  rouse  that  numbed  mind  —  two  ex- 
quisite portraits  just  opposite  the  blazing  fire; 
Jean  and  Tavy,  pictured  with  the  skilful  brush  of 


THE  ENEMY  341 

Tommy  Tinkle,  so  that  there  seems  almost  con- 
sciousness in  the  loving  eyes,  words  upon  the  ten- 
der, curving  lips!  These  at  least  should  arrest 
him.  His  bleared  gaze  passes  over  them  stupidly. 
He  turns  the  latch,  he  walks  into  the  hall,  he  closes 
the  door  softly  behind  him,  he  descends  the  stairs, 
he  walks  out  into  the  street. 

The  dawn  is  streaking  the  sky,  just  such  a  dawn 
as  that  which  broke  upon  him  the  morning  he 
found  Jean;  but  it  carries  with  it  no  association, 
as  he  lurches  down  the  street.  Something  at  the 
curb  catches  his  eye !  It  is  the  blackened  and 
dampened  butt  of  a  cigar.  He  stoops  and  picks 
it  up.  Righthand  pocket. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 

HARRISON    STUART   CONQUERS    HIS   ENEMY 

EARLY  morning  in  the  Sink.  Damp  and 
cold  outside,  damp  and  cold  inside;  but 
a  fire  in  the  big  cannon  ball  stove  was  do- 
ing its  best  to  dispel  the  eternal  gloom  and  the 
eternal  chill  which  hung  in  this  section  of  the  In- 
ferno. The  morning  bartender  was  on  duty,  a 
pin-eyed  man,  with  broad  cheek-bones,  and  a  low 
forehead,  and  a  thin-lipped  wide  mouth  set  so  low 
down  that  it  seemed  to  cut  off  his  chin  when  he 
spoke.  A  shivering  and  quaking  figure  came 
through  the  door;  Red  Whitey,  out  from  what- 
ever warren  he  infested.  They  are  early  risers, 
these  whisky  drinkers.  A  beer  drinker  sleeps 
later. 

There  was  no  conversation  between  the  barten- 
der and  the  customer ;  for  Red  Whitey  was  not  yet 
alive.  With  infinite  fumbling,  he  fished  a  nickel 
from  his  pocket  and  dropped  it  on  the  bar,  and  the 
worn  looking  bottle  came  out,  together  with  a 
small  glass.  Red  Whitey  put  his  hand  around 

342 


THE  ENEMY  343 

the  top  of  the  glass  so  that  it  would  hold  more, 
and  poured  it  full  to  the  top  of  his  finger,  and 
lifted  it  to  his  mouth  with  three  separate  jerks, 
the  pin-eyed  bartender  looking  dully  on.  This 
style  of  drink  was  allowed  to  regular  customers, 
for  the  first  morning's  morning.  After  the  drink, 
Red  Whitey,  with  a  shudder  and  wry  face,  shiv- 
ered over  to  the  bench  near  the  stove  and  sat 
down,  and  waited  for  the  drink  to  take  effect. 
It  would  warm  him  awake  in  a  minute  or  two. 

Pittsburg  Joe.  He  slouched  in,  shivering  and 
rubbing  his  hands.  His  shirt  was  open  at  the 
neck,  and  his  thin  coat  hung  on  him  like  a  wilted 
rag,  covered  with  stains  of  so  many  sorts  and  ages 
that  it  looked  like  a  record  of  crime. 

"  Some  cold,  Bo."  His  voice  was  so  hoarse 
that  it  might  have  been  a  late  fall  bull-frog's. 
He  reached  up  under  his  arm-pit,  and,  from  some 
mysterious  recess  in  the  coat  lining,  he  produced  a 
much  folded  and  soiled  dollar  bill.  "  Ladle  out 
a  schooner." 

The  glass  of  beer  forthcoming,  he  emptied  in 
it  some  crystal-like  powder  from  a  red  pill  box, 
stirred  it  with  a  bar  spoon,  and  drank  the  mix- 
ture slowly  but  steadily,  without  seeming  to  swal- 
low, much  as  if  he  were  pouring  it  into  a  funnel. 
The  effect  was  almost  instantaneous.  He  shook 


344  THE  ENEMY 

his  shoulders  and  his  eyes  brightened.  He  began 
to  talk  volubly,  with  a  curious  break  from  his 
hoarseness  to  a  metallic  shrillness.  He  told 
where  he  had  been  the  past  month,  and  all  that  he 
had  done,  with  a  dozen  contradictions  in  his 
wasted  lies;  and  when  the  bartender  had  enough, 
and  walked  away,  Pittsburg  Joe  sat  by  Red 
Whitey  and  told  him  the  rest  of  it. 

Tank  Tonkey  came  presently,  as  big  of  girth 
as  ever  and  as  pendulous  of  chin;  then  two  more 
of  the  old  winter  guard;  then  Piggy  Marshall; 
and  the  day's  business  at  the  Sink  was  fairly  be- 
gun. It  consisted  of  sitting  and  warming,  and 
waiting  for  some  one  to  buy  a  drink;  and  it  was 
largely  a  silent  business,  requiring  much  quiet  con- 
centration. Only  the  voice  of  Pittsburg  Joe  kept 
shrilling  on  and  on. 

The  pin-eyed  bartender  looked  up  in  astonish- 
ment as  a  quite  unusual  customer  came  through 
the  door.  He  was  an  old  man  in  a  neatly  pressed 
suit,  but  without  shirt  or  collar  or  tie,  his  breast 
being  covered  by  a  silk  pajama  jacket.  His  face 
was  waxen-white,  his  eyes  were  bleared,  and  there 
were  huge  puffs  under  them,  his  lips  were  form- 
less, and  even  his  silver  Vandyke  seemed  to  be 
scraggly  and  distended  from  the  loose  puffiness 
of  his  skin.  Every  muscle  of  his  face  was  laxed, 


THE  ENEMY  345 

so  that  his  countenance  was  filled  with  putty-like 
lines. 

"  A  little  whisky,"  he  asked,  and  threw  some 
money  on  the  counter ;  a  bill ;  five  dollars. 

The  pin-eyed  bartender  hesitated  a  moment, 
then  he  reached  under  the  bar  and  produced  a 
bottle  of  labeled  whisky.  From  the  same  hiding 
place  he  produced  a  gentleman's  glass. 

The  new  customer,  with  a  formless  smile  at  the 
size  of  the  glass,  stretched  his  hand  around  its 
brim,  and  poured  until  it  was  full  to  the  top  of 
his  finger,  and  lifted  it  jerkily  to  his  mouth,  and 
drank ;  while  the  bartender  rang  up  a  double  drink, 
and  threw  out  change  for  a  four-dollar  bill.  He 
laid  the  other  dollar  beneath  the  bar,  for  slipping 
in  his  pocket,  later. 

"  Kind  o'  cold,"  he  observed,  by  way  of  friendly 
encouragement. 

Red  Whitey  was  all  aquiver!  He  edged  over 
close  to  Piggy  Marshall  and  whispered  in  his  ear: 

"John  Doe!" 

"  Bow- Wow  I  "  Piggy  spoke  quite  confidently, 
but  he  sat  still,  and  studied  the  new  customer  with 
perplexed  professional  interest. 

Red  Whitey  motioned  Tank  Tonkey  to  come 
closer. 

"  You  don't  suppose  it's  Bow-Wow  I  " 


346  THE  ENEMY 

Tank  Tonkey  shook  his  head. 

"  I  dassent  make  a  guess,"  he  husked. 

Red  Whitey,  trembling  with  the  eagerness  of  a 
rat  terrier,  turned  to  Pittsburg  Joe. 

"  Say;  is  that  Bow-Wow?  " 

"  Naw!  "  The  contempt  of  Joe  for  the  asker 
of  that  question  was  profound. 

"  Well,  go  lamp  him,  that's  all  I  say,"  advised 
Red,  his  curiosity  at  the  shaking  point.  "  Go 
lamp  him !  " 

"  Sure."  Pittsburg  Joe  was  ready  for  any- 
thing. He  had  that  in  him  which  gave  him  ex- 
treme confidence  in  himself.  He  could  jump  over 
the  Brooklyn  Bridge  if  he  tried.  He  looked  back 
and  winked  three  times,  as  he  crossed  to  the  bar 
and  lounged  near  the  stranger.  He  made  a  thor- 
ough inspection,  and  still  was  doubtful,  but  he 
winked  prodigiously.  "  Hello,  sport,"  he  ven- 
tured. 

The  new  customer,  clumsily  picking  up  his 
change,  turned  slowly  and  gazed  at  the  intruder 
with  heavy  lidded  eyes,  swaying  and  nodding,  then 
a  formless  smile  came  upon  his  lips. 

"  Hello,  Joe.     Have  a  little  drink." 

Bow-Wow !  They  were  over  at  the  bar  as  one 
man,  and  he  knew  them  all;  he  called  them  by 
name!  They  clustered  round  him  like  flies! 


THE  ENEMY  347 

The  pin-eyed  bartender  wiped  his  hands  briskly 
on  his  apron  and  got  ready  for  business.  Bow- 
Wow  had  put  his  change  back  on  the  bar  in -front 
of  him,  and  drew  it  in  a  heap. 

"  Have  a  little  drink." 

Would  they  have  a  little  drink !  They  would, 
as  many  as  Bow- Wow  would  buy!  The  barten- 
der reached  for  the  labeled  bottle,  but  Red 
Whitey  stopped  that  economic  waste. 

"  Regular  stuff  for  him,  Phil.  You  don't  know 
this  guy.  He's  one  of  our  old  buddies.  Name's 
Bow-Wow." 

"  Hello,  Red."  A  husky,  guttural  voice,  each 
sentence  interrupted  with  labored  breathing. 
"  Have  a  little  drink." 

Others  arrived,  for  the  rulers  of  the  kingdom 
of  rest  were  at  their  city  home  now.  The  season 
of  their  reign  was  past.  They  came  in  apathet- 
ically, one  by  one,  but  as  they  saw  the  throng  at  the 
bar,  each  quickened  his  pace  to  eager  briskness, 
for  the  day's  business  promised  to  be  good 

Bow-Wow  had  more  money,  plenty  of  it,  and 
he  did  not  notice  that,  in  paying  for  the  constant 
succession  of  drinks,  he  broke  bills  with  astonish- 
ing rapidity.  He  did  not  notice  that  the  pin-eyed 
bartender  kept  out  an  average  of  twenty  percent 
for  himself.  He  did  not  notice  that  coins  slipped 


348  THE  ENEMY 

away  on  all  sides,  from  his  heap,  and  that  even 
bills  disappeared,  as  his  change  was  dumped  in 
front  of  him.  Except  to  see  that  the  little  glass 
was  set  before  him  frequently,  he  did  not  notice 
anything;  that  his  hands  were  white  when  they 
should  be  gnarled  and  black,  and  that  his  nails 
were  polished  and  well-trimmed,  when  they 
should  be  stained  and  ragged  and  black-rimmed; 
that  these  were  malodorous  creatures  who  hung 
upon  his  shoulders  and  slapped  him  on  the  back, 
and  called  him  Pal,  and  Bo,  and  Buddy  —  and 
Bow- Wow;  that  the  floor  was  a  filthy  mire,  that 
the  atmosphere  was  fetid  and  foul;  that  gradually 
what  little  there  was  left  in  him  of  the  semblance 
of  God's  own  image  was  dropping  away  and  leav- 
ing him  to  be  submerged  in  his  loathsome  swine- 
hood  !  And  the  swine  in  him  was  happy.  It  was 
being  drenched  with  whisky. 

Jerry-the-Limp.  He  came  in  more  briskly 
than  the  others,  but  when  he  saw  the  throng  at 
the  bar,  his  leg  shortened,  and  his  mouth  took 
on  a  piteous  droop,  and  he  came  forward  limping. 

"  Get  in,  Jerry !  "  sang  Red  Whitey,  bold  as  a 
lion  now.  It  was  he  who  hung  the  most  on  the 
provider  of  the  feast.  "  It's  Bow- Wow!  " 

The  change  in  Jerry-the-Limp  was  instanta- 
neous. His  leg  came  down,  the  droop  went  out 


THE  ENEMY  349 

of  his  mouth,  his  beady  eyes  glittered,  and  he  be- 
gan to  snarl,  even  as  he  pushed  his  way  through 
the  industrious  men  of  business. 

"So  it's  Bow-Wow!"  he  shrilled.  "So 
you've  come  back,  you  white-whiskered  stiff!  So 
you  got  drunk,  eh,  and  they  gave  you  the  toss !  " 

Bow- Wow  looked  around  at  him  slowly,  with  a 
nodding  head  and  dull  comprehension.  His 
heavy-lidded  eyes  focused  as  best  they  could. 

"  Hello,  Jerry.  Have  a  little  drink."  That, 
and  "  A  little  whisky  "  were  the  only  words  his 
thick  tongue  had  formed  since  he  came  into  the 
Sink. 

"Don't  ask  me  to  have  a  drink!"  Jerry's 
hand,  quite  by  accident  of  course,  pushed  a  bill 
from  the  edge  of  the  bar.  The  bill  fell  to  the 
floor,  and  he  put  his  foot  on  it.  "  Do  you  know 
what  you  done  to  me?  " 

"Aw,  cut  it,  Jerry;  Bow- Wow's  all  right! 
He's  a  good  buddy!  "  Red  Whitey  made  that 
intercession.  He  was  desperately  afraid  that  the 
happy  program  might  be  interrupted. 

"  Shut  your  yawp !  "  Jerry-the-Limp  had  re- 
gained his  ascendency.  It  was  the  triumph  of 
mind  over  matter.  "  We  came  up  for  a  friendly 
little  call,  and  you  handed  us  the  toss,  didn't  you, 
you  white-whiskered  stiff !  "  He  shook  his  fist 


350  THE  ENEMY 

in  Bow- Wow's  face.  His  little  eyes  were  glaring 
vindictively  and  his  snarl  displayed  all  his  red 
gums.  "  You  turned  us  up  to  Mike  Dowd,  didn't 
you !  "  His  claw-like  hand  grabbed  Bow-Wow 
at  the  shoulder  and  shook  him,  for  better  atten- 
tion. "  You  got  me  in  a  scrap  with  my  pals,  and 
I  got  four  months  on  the  rock  pile!  I  cracked 
rocks  for  four  months,  I  did;  four  months,  in 
fine  weather,  and  me  with  my  poor  crippled  leg! 
I'll  show  you !  "  and  he  turned  Bow-Wow  roughly 
around  to  face  him. 

At  last  the  sodden  Bow-Wow,  intent  only  on 
supplying  his  one  great  need,  knew  that  he  was  an- 
noyed. 

"Whisky!"  he  suddenly  husked.  "It's  the 
curse  of  the  world!  "  His  voice  rose  shrilly. 
"  There  is  no  hell  but  whisky !  Drink !  It's  the 
enemy  of  man  and  God!  "  The  creature's  fists 
were  clenched  and  his  eyes  were  glistening,  as  his 
voice  rose  to  greater  vehemence.  ;'  Whisky!  It 
burns  the  body  and  it  sears  the  brain !  " 

It  was  Piggy  Marshall,  who,  with  one  of  his 
rare  flashes  of  memory,  suddenly  recalled  the 
great  joke.  He  knew  now  why  he  always  chuckled 
at  the  mention  of  Bow-Wow's  name.  It  was  the 
regular  climax  to  this  set  speech.  He  suddenly 
reached  over  Jerry-the-Limp's  shoulder  and  gave 


THE  ENEMY  351 

Bow- Wow's  whiskers  a  violent  yank.  That  was 
the  great  joke ! 

Here  again  came  that  strange  memory  of  the 
body.  The  Bow-Wow  of  old  had  sunk  so  low  in 
his  torpidity  that  he  had  lost  all  power  of  resent- 
ment. The  Harrison  Stuart  of  the  past  year  had 
brought  his  body  up  to  manliness;  and  it  was  his 
body  which  now  struck  impotently  out  at  Piggy 
Marshall,  but  landed  its  fist  on  the  snarling  mouth 
of  Jerry-the-Limp ! 

With  a  scream  of  rage,  Jerry  plunged  for  him. 
Bow-Wow  backed  to  avoid  the  blow.  Tank  Ton- 
key,  just  behind  him,  stepped  aside,  and  Bow- 
Wow  fell  to  the  floor,  hitting  his  head  on  the  iron 
foot  rail.  He  lay  stunned,  for  a  moment,  and 
Jerry-the-Limp  made  ready  to  kick  him  and  stamp 
him,  until  the  long  pent-up  glut  of  vindictive  rage 
should  be  appeased;  and  the  others  would  have 
allowed  him  to  do  it,  for  that  was  the  rule  of  the 
game  in  the  Bowery. 

Jerry-the-Limp  was  just  drawing  his  heavily 
shod  foot  for  the  first  kick  at  Bow- Wow's  face, 
when  there  landed  on  his  shoulder  a  hand  so 
weighty  and  a  grip  so  sharp  that  it  nearly  extracted 
the  shoulder  bone!  The  hand  was  like  a  great 
slab  of  pickled  meat  with  fingers  hewed  roughly  in 
the  end,  and  it  belonged  to  Mike  Dowd! 


352  THE  ENEMY 

"Here  you!"  bellowed  Mike,  and  he  shook 
Jerry-the-Limp  until  his  teeth  chattered.  "  You 
duck  before  I  smash  you!  You're  barred  from 
this  joint,  you  shrimp !  "  and  he  flung  Jerry  back- 
wards, without  looking  where  he  landed,  so  vio- 
lently that  he  crashed  against  the  door  with  a 
grunt.  Finding  himself  so  handy  to  egress,  Jerry- 
the-Limp,  who  was  a  quick  thinker,  promptly 
jumped  outside  and  hurried  up  the  Bowery,  with 
a  total  disregard  for  his  poor  crippled  leg. 

In  the  meantime,  Mike  Dowd  leaned  down  to 
pick  up  the  fallen  combatant,  and,  as  he  did  so,  he 
stopped,  with  a  catch  of  his  breath. 

"  St.  Patrick,  it's  — "     He  paused  at  the  name. 

"  It's  Bow-Wow ! "  A  hoarse  and  husky 
chorus  apprised  him  of  that  fact. 

"Get  back,  you!"  roared  Mike.  "Set 
down!  "  and  they  sat. 

He  had  picked  up  the  fallen  man,  whose  eyes 
were  staring  wildly  about  him,  and  now  led  him 
behind  the  bar,  where  there  was  a  chair  at  the 
forward  end.  It  was  comparatively  clean,  here. 
It  was  Mike's  drawing-room. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  see  you  this  way,  friend."  He 
was  careful  about  names,  even  though  he  was  lean- 
ing over  and  speaking  in  a  low  voice.  "  I  knew 
there'd  be  a  come-back  some  time,  though,  and  I 


THE  ENEMY  353 

knew  you'd  break  here.  I  guess  it's  lucky  you 
did.  Need  a  little  drink  of  something?  " 

Harrison  Stuart  shook  his  head. 

"  Thank  you,"  he  tremulously  returned.  "  I'll 
be  all  right."  The  fall,  the  slight  contusion  of 
his  scalp,  the  slight  flow  of  blood,  had  shocked 
him  out  of  his  stupor. 

"  Now  you  just  set  still  and  rest,  and  I'll  call 
up  Billy.  He'll  fix  you,"  and  Mike  went  to  the 
telephone  at  the  other  end  of  the  bar,  while  the 
pin-eyed  servitor  plodded  back  to  the  dusty  and 
blackened  barrels  at  the  rear  of  the  room,  to  fill 
the  bottles  for  the  day.  Mike  asked  for  his  num- 
ber, but  there  was  a  long  wait;  a  busy  wire.  At 
that  moment  Jean  Stuart  was  trying  to  call  Billy, 
to  ask  how  Hal  was,  and  Tavy,  hollow-eyed,  was 
standing  at  her  side.  They  had  no  answer,  for 
Billy  and  Burke  were  still  sound  asleep.  They 
did  not  know  yet  that  Harrison  Stuart  was  gone  I 

So  he  had  failed,  failed  within  two  weeks  of 
grasping  the  crown  of  his  long  waiting!  Even 
through  the  fumes  which  bewildered  his  brain,  he 
realized  it  all.  He  had  been  drunk!  He  was 
here  in  this  foul  hole,  not  as  a  curious  spectator, 
but  as  one  of  its  brutalized  habitues.  He  could 
never  trust  himself  again  I  He  could  never  sum- 
mon sufficient  confidence,  nor  yet  sufficient  strength, 


354  THE  ENEMY 

to  fight  through  that  battle  for  another  whole 
year,  much  less  for  the  balance  of  his  life !  Jean ! 
Tavy !  He  had  come  into  their  lives  only  to  dis- 
grace them  again !  And  how  often  would  he  do  it 
in  the  time  to  come?  With  a  moan  of  anguish, 
he  rose  from  his  chair  and  walked  down  to  the 
center  of  the  bar,  to  look  at  himself  in  the  mirror, 
conscious,  while  he  did  it,  that,  to  add  to  his  hu- 
miliation, all  those  decrepit  wrecks  of  humanity 
over  against  the  wall  were  watching  his  every 
movement  and  leering  at  him.  He  turned  to  the 
narrow  mirror  just  above  the  open  cash  drawer, 
and  what  he  saw,  in  the  bleared  and  distorted  face, 
chilled  the  blood  in  his  veins.  He  almost  stopped 
his  breathing,  and  looked  and  looked,  and  read 
the  full  depth  of  his  degradation ! 

At  last  Mike  Dowd  had  his  call.  By  some 
trick  of  the  switchboard,  he  had  the  wire  before 
Jean  Stuart. 

"Billy  Lane's?" 

"  Yes."     The  sleepy  voice  of  Burke. 

"Billy  up?" 

"No,  sir  —  yes;  he  says  he's  awake." 

"  Well,  tell  Billy  this  is  Mike  Dowd.  There's 
a  certain  party  down  here,  he'll  know  who " 

There  was  a  deafening  explosion,  a  concussion 
as  if  all  the  air  in  the  room  had  been  compressed 


THE  ENEMY  355 

and  then  suddenly  released,  a  jingling  of  glasses, 
and  then  a  heavy  fall.  Mike  Dowd  dropped  the 
receiver  and  ran  to  the  huddled  figure.  Harrison 
Stuart  was  crumpled  on  the  floor  in  a  shapeless 
heap,  at  his  hand  the  revolver  snatched  from  the 
cash  drawer.  Harrison  Stuart  had  fought  his 
last  battle  with  drink,  and  had  conquered.  He 
had  found  the  way  to  keep  from  ever  falling  a 
victim  to  whisky  again.  He  was  dead! 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 

THE   ROYAL    PRINCESS   COMES    HOME 

IT  was  in  solid  black  that  the  royal  princess 
came  home  to  the  beautiful  cottage.     In  the 
heart  of  the  royal  princess  there  was  a  sor- 
row  which   would   never   quit   it;   but   Harrison 
Stuart,  when  he  passed  out  under  the  shadow  of 
tall  elms,  on  his  way  to  rest,  took  with  him  the 
specter  of  fear,  which,  for  so  many  years,  had 
shadowed  the  patient  eyes  of  Jean.     And  he  had 
given  her  a  parting  gift;  peace! 

After  they  had  come  back  from  that  solemn 
journey  to  the  city  of  the  dead,  Billy  drew  Tavy 
aside  into  the  little  room  which  was  to  have  been 
her  father's  sanctuary.  There  was  suffering  in 
his  face  as  well  as  in  hers,  but  in  him,  too,  there 
was  some  strange  new  thing  which  had  come  to 
him  because  Harrison  Stuart  had  died. 

"  I  am  going  away,"  he  told  her,  holding  both 
her  dear  hands  in  his,  and  gazing  down  into  her 
dark  eyes  as  if  he  must  look,  and  look,  to  fix  them 
within  his  vision  for  all  time  to  come. 

356 


THE  ENEMY  3S7 

She  drew  closer  to  him. 

"  It  is  because  I  am  not  yet  free,"  he  went  on. 
'  There  may  be  men  who  can  drink  in  safety;  but 
I  am  one  of  those  who  can  not.  The  death  of 
Hal  proved  to  me  that  even  the  most  rigid  ab- 
stinence is  not  sufficient.  It  will  not  do  to  say  that 
I  will  never  have  the  taste  of  whisky  on  my  tongue. 
I  must  be  able  to  endure  that  taste,  and  conquer 
the  desire  it  arouses  in  me.  The  taste  on  the 
tongue !  Tavy,  I  am  not  yet  secure  against  it ; 
and  there  is  a  reason  greater  than  you  or  me  why 
I  have  no  right,  with  this  curse  upon  me,  to  make 
you  my  wife ;  that  reason  considers  those  who  can- 
not agree  that  they  are  willing  to  bear  the  wretch- 
edness I  might  bring  upon  them  —  the  unborn." 

She  drew  still  closer,  nestled  against  him,  and 
he  folded  her  in  his  arms,  though  he  stood  stiff 
and  straight.  If  he  dared  bend  to  her  he  might 
weaken  his  resolution,  and  to  hold  to  it  was,  even 
now,  costing  him  his  heart's  blood. 

"  So,  Tavy  dear,  I  am  going  to  spend  my  life, 
if  need  be,  in  the  conquering  of  this  enemy,  and  I 
have  no  right  to  hold  you  bound.  There  must  be 
no  pledge  between  us." 

Mutely  she  stripped  the  ring  from  her  finger 
and  laid  it  in  his  palm,  and  looked  up  at  him. 
There  flowed  between  them  that  pure  love  which 


358  THE  ENEMY 

is  infinitely  greater  than  the  giving  of  self  to  self ! 
He  stooped,  and  kissed  her  upturned  lips;  and 
then  he  walked  out  under  the  shadow  of  the  tall 
elms.  That  day  the  firm  of  William  Lane  ceased 
to  exist,  and  William  Lane  dropped  out  of  the  ken 
of  men  as  completely  as  Harrison  Stuart  had  done. 
And  the  snows  of  winter  fell  on  the  beautiful  cot- 
tage of  the  royal  princess,  and  the  birds  of 
summer  sang  in  the  tall  elms  outside  Tavy's 
windows. 


Spring.  Bright  color  everywhere.  Flowers 
peep  up  in  the  woods,  flaunt  themselves  at  the 
roadside,  and  cluster  with  particularly  loving  fond- 
ness around  the  beautiful  cottage  of  the  royal  prin- 
cess. Bright  color  everywhere  in  the  beautiful 
cottage,  for  there  is  scarcely  a  room  which  has  not 
its  vase  of  gay  flowers.  Even  on  the  big  mahog- 
any desk  there  is  a  huge  bowl  of  apple  blossoms, 
which  Tavy  places  there  every  season.  Her 
father  had  been  very  fond  of  them,  and  Billy  had 
been  fond  of  them. 

Billy  is  much  in  her  mind  to-day.  Perhaps  it  is 
because  the  air  has  in  it  that  same  quality  of  balmi- 
ness  which  it  had  on  that  day,  so  long  ago,  when 


THE  ENEMY  359 

she  and  Billy  had  walked  around  and  around  Van- 
heuster  Square,  listening  to  the  triumphant  song 
of  the  lone  robin.  Five  years  of  cheerful  purpose 
had  brought  to  Tavy  a  new  beauty.  The  black 
hair  is  just  as  curly,  the  deep  gray  eyes  just  as  lumi- 
nous, the  oval  cheeks  are  just  as  delicately  tinted, 
but  about  the  red  lips  and  about  the  deep  eyes 
there  has  grown  that  sweetness  which  comes  only 
to  those  who  have  learned  to  suffer  without  bit- 
terness. 

Five  years  had  added  to  the  whiteness  of  Jean 
Stuart's  hair,  but  they  have  added  nothing  more 
to  her,  except  the  reward  of  her  peace.  As  she 
comes  into  the  room  now,  where  Tavy  is  arrang- 
ing the  apple  blossoms  in  the  bowl,  there  is  a 
great  similarity  between  mother  and  daughter, 
though  they  look  nothing  alike,  and  one  has  youth 
and  the  other  age.  The  similarity  is  in  the  ex- 
pression about  the  eyes  and  lips,  that  expression 
of  the  sweetness  which  repays  those  who  will  suf- 
fer without  bitterness. 

'  There's  a  caller  for  you,  Tavy." 

"Tommy  Tinkle?" 

"  No."  A  peculiar  smile  on  Jean  Stuart's  lips, 
and  —  why  are  her  eyes  suddenly  so  bright,  and 
moist,  too,  as  she  slips  her  arm  around  Tavy's 


360  THE  ENEMY 

waist?  Why  is  it  that,  though  she  smiles  stead- 
fastly, there  is  a  twitching  in  the  corner  of  her  lips 
and  a  trembling  in  them. 

"Who  then?" 

"A  gentleman;  an  old  friend."  The  arm 
around  Tavy's  waist  holds  her  closer,  but  the 
smile  is  steadfast,  though  the  moisture  in  the  eyes 
increases.  Why,  there  are  tears  glistening  on  her 
lashes !  "  In  the  parlor,  Tavy." 

There  is  a  sudden  catch  in  Tavy's  breath,  a 
sudden  pallor  in  her  face,  and  then  she  steadies 
herself.  When  one  learns  to  suffer  without  bit- 
terness, one  has  learned  to  have  only  very  quiet 
emotions. 

"  Were  you  glad  to  see  him,  mother?  " 

Now  the  two  tears  which  trembled  on  the  lashes 
roll  down  the  faded  cheeks,  but  the  smile,  though 
it  quivers  still,  is  steadfast. 

"  Very,  Tavy  dear,  very  glad,  and  very  happy, 
and  very  proud  1  " 

She  withdraws  her  arm  from  about  her  daugh- 
ter, and  takes  her  by  the  shoulders  and  looks  deep 
into  her  eyes,  and  kisses  her.  Then  Tavy  walks 
into  the  hall  and  up  toward  the  parlor.  Outside 
the  door  she  leans  her  hand  against  the  wall,  for 
her  knees  have  a  sudden  curious  notion  to  bend, 
and  her  breath  has  come  short,  and  she  feels  that 


THE  ENEMY  361 

she  has  no  color  in  her  face;  so  she  waits  a  mo- 
ment. Then  she  draws  aside  the  portieres,  and 
stops  on  the  threshold. 

There  he  stands  near  the  window,  big  and 
strong  and  handsome,  and  there  is  no  need  to  ask 
him  any  questions,  as  she  looks  into  his  clear  eyes, 
which  somehow,  like  her  own,  have  grown  the 
better  for  the  cultivation  of  suffering  without  bit- 
terness. 

For  a  long,  long  space  they  stand  motionless, 
as  if  their  hungry  eyes  must  first  be  satisfied,  then 
she  is  in  his  arms,  and  he  is  kissing  her  over  and 
over  and  over,  and  telling  her  again  and  again  and 
again  that  he  loves  her !  And  they  are  never  to  be 
parted  any  more,  and  she  holds  out  her  finger 
for  her  ring,  and  there  is  no  trace  in  her  eyes  of 
the  specter  of  fear! 

There  is  a  brisk  footstep  on  the  porch,  in  the 
hall,  in  the  room.  Tommy  Tinkle,  good  old 
Tommy,  with  the  whimsical  grin  upon  his  wide 
face,  and  just  behind  him  comes  Mummy  Stuart, 
hurrying  lest  he  might  say  something  funny  and 
she  not  hear  it. 

11  Well,  Tavy,  I  suppose  Billy's  told  you  that 
he's  been  all  over  the  world,  and  owns  a  diamond 
mine,  and  had  a  beard  when  he  came  home,  and 
Burke  shaved  it  off  an  hour  ago  so  you'd  be  sure 


362  THE  ENEMY 

to  know  him,  and  —  he  hasn't?  Why,  I  don't  be- 
lieve he's  told  you  anything!  Mummy  Stuart, 
what  do  we  have  for  lunch?  " 


THE   END 


VAIL-BALLOU   CO.,    BINGHAMTON    AND    NEW   YORK 


